Enslaved by the Enemy
by Andmetwen
Summary: The Haradrim take the Prince of Mirkwood captive. Chapter 20 up! WOOHOO! So we are in Mirkwood, finally... what's gonna happen?
1. Prolouge

Enslaved by the Enemy

Author: Me!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Tolkien's. All credit goes to his brilliant mind!

A/N: This isn't a happy, romance story, so if you want a story like that, keep looking, 'cuz you ain't gonna find it here! I accept flames along with criticism and compliments. Okay, in this story, The War of the Ring NEVER happened. So it will be completely different from anything you have read. Aragorn is King of Gondor, and Legolas is still Prince of Mirkwood. All thoughts will be in Italics. Translations will be at the bottom of each chapter. Review!

Warning: This story will contain Elf torture! If you don't like it, don't read it! If you do like it, enjoy reading! There will also be a lot of violence and mild language and slash! Please make sure you know this before you decide to flame me. I just want to make sure you know first. (The rape mentionings WILL be slightly detailed! So beware! I'm warning you ahead of time! It will be your own fault if you didn't read the warning! )

Rating: R for violence, mild language, rape mentionings etc.

Prologue

The Elven Prince urged his stallion faster. The men pursuing him were getting closer with each stride his horse took. "_Noro lim, Aphadon, noro lim!" _he whispered in his native tongue. His horse snorted and lengthened his gallop. The Wood-Elf desperately wished trees were there for him to hide in, but all around him was desert. An arrow whistled past the Elf's head. The attackers had taken to their weapons to bring the Elf down.

Another arrow came up with blinding speed but this time hit the intended target. The Elf gasped and slid from his saddle, surprised by the sudden unwanted pain that had entered his lower back. _Aphadon_ reared and neighed, startled by his master's sudden wish to dismount and lie in the dirt. The immortal gripped the arrow and pulled it out. Hoof beats thundered up behind the Elf and his noble steed. Men with evil grins jumped off their horses and surrounded the Elven Prince.

The Prince stumbled to his feet and grabbed his twin knives, twirling them around in his hands, daring the humans to come closer. They laughed and jeered at the outnumbered Elf; one particularly large man flung forward a lasso and caught one of the Elf's arms in the rope. He jerked it back, forcing the Elf to drop his knife and lose his balance. Another man swung his lasso out and caught the Elf's other arm, making him drop the other Elvish knife. The two men yanked the ropes back and caused the Elf to lose his footing. He crashed to the ground; the men were on him in seconds, binding his slim hands and feet with thick, crude rope.

"Stand back! Let me see the Elf!" The men reluctantly parted and let their Commander pass through. A handsome man dressed in the Gondorian Army uniform walked up. "You knew we would catch you sooner or later, Elf. You should have given up; you would be unharmed right now." The Elf struggled against the tight arms holding him on the ground.

"Your treachery will reach Aragorn soon enough. I won't be in your filthy hands long," spat the Elf. The man flashed a smile that glittered next to his tan skin. "Take off the ropes from his feet. He will walk to meet their Majesties and the Prince," said the former Commander from Gondor.

"I'd rather ride my own horse," the Elf retorted. The man shook his cultured head and pointed to a man holding a noose. The thick rope was slipped over his head and tightened until the Prince choked. _This won't do,_ he thought. _I'm a Prince. Not some cursed unruly beast! I resent being treated like one! _The men walked their horses to form a circle around the Silven Elf. The Commander took the rope that was tied around the Elf's neck and attached it to his saddle horn.

The Elf looked back at his forgotten weapons and his faithful horse. "Noro! Treneri Ada!" _Aphadon_ stood where he was, staring at his master and wondering why he was leaving him in the middle if the desert. "_Noro!"_ The horse sped off in the direction of Mirkwood.

"Stupid Elf!" snarled the Gondorian. He smacked him hard across the face; the Prince was caught off guard, lost his balance and hit his head on a large boulder and fell unconscious. The Commander grunted and pulled the Elf off the ground and in front of him on the saddle. The Elf's body slumped back and his head rested on the man's shoulder. He had a fair, smooth skin, very desirable. "His Highness will definitely enjoy breaking you, Prince Legolas."

Noro lim= Ride fast

Aphadon= Follower (Stupid name for a horse, huh?)

Noro= Go

Treneri Ada= Tell Father (I know a horse can't talk and all, but oh well!) 

A/N: Just in case you're confused give you a little summary.

Summary: King Aragorn executed a thousand Haradrim soldiers. To retaliate, the Haradrim kidnapped the Commander, who was a personal friend of Aragorn. The Commander made a deal with their King: he could deliver them an Elven Prince in exchange for his freedom. The King agreed but made the Commander swear he would never tell the King of Gondor and he had his full allegiance. The fool of a Commander agreed and wrote a fake letter to Legolas, Elven Prince of Mirkwood, saying Aragorn was in need of his immediate assistance. Legolas left quickly but on his way there, the Haradrim attacked him. So now he's in the hands of the enemy.


	2. Prisoner

Disclaimer: See Prologue

Chapter One

The Haradrim King, Quasir, scowled as the Elven Prince was dropped unconscious at his feet. The Queen sunk back in her pure gold throne, displeased at her husband's choice to take an innocent Elf captive. She had no proof that the Commander had not reported this matter to the King of Gondor. But she had not looked upon the face of the deceitful man; her son had done so.

He saw triumph and evil etched in the pretty face. The Prince smiled. "Cut the ropes and awaken the Elf," Quasir commanded. A short man with gray hair knelt beside the Elven Prince and cut the bindings. He then slapped Legolas lightly across the face to arouse his clouded mind. The Elf slowly opened his sapphire eyes and blinked a few times.

"On your feet, there you go. Bow to your new King, Elf." Legolas looked around, surprised. Everything was pure gold! The floor, the thrones, the curtains, the jewelry–everything! How could someone like golden ornaments _this _much? "I said bow to your King!" Legolas shook his blonde head defiantly.

The Prince's smile only widened on his impeccable tanned face. He bent down and whispered something to his father; the King nodded. "I hereby announce that my son, Damean, Prince of the Haradrim population, has full ownership over the prisoner. He has all rights to do what he wishes to him. Take the Elf to my son's living quarters." The guards started to pull Legolas down an exiting hall before Legolas stopped them by speaking.

"You can't own me," he stated softly but firmly. The King looked up, startled by the sudden outburst of the Elf. He chuckled quietly to himself. "Well that's too bad, Prince of Mirkwood. Because I do; or, that is, my son does. Take him away." Legolas struggled against the guards as they took him to Damean's rooms. Legolas kicked one of the guards in the stomach, making him double over in pain. He punched another in the jaw, causing the man to lose his balance and almost fall out of an open window behind him. 

The Prince of Harad followed his men closely, furious at the fact that this Elf had nearly killed a guard. "Hit him if you have to!" the Prince exclaimed. "You weren't trained to fall at the feet of an single damn Elf!" The men grunted at the insult and held Legolas tighter; this made Legolas madder. He should not be treated in this manner! A man suddenly drove Legolas' head into the wall, making the Wood-Elf see black spots in his vision.

The gray-haired human from the throne room and rammed his fist into Legolas' still bleeding arrow wound. The Silvan Prince stumbled against the wall and fell into blackness as a fresh wave of pain engulfed his body. The men carried the Elf to their Prince's bed and laid him clumsily upon it. "Summon a healer!" the Prince barked. The guards left and the chief healer entered after a few moments. 

About twenty minutes later the healer motioned for his Prince to follow him and see Legolas. While he walked to see his prisoner, the medical attendant told Damean of his wounds. "The arrow went deep, almost protruding through to his front side. I have put a healing ointment on the wounds and have bandaged his lower back. I will be back tomorrow morning to take off the bandage and to give him a herbal remedy. He should be awake by then." The Prince nodded; his mind was preoccupied. "Is there anything else you might need, my Lord?" 

"No, no. That will do, thank you. I shall see to it that you are paid well for this. You may leave now."

"Your Majesty, may I ask a question?" asked the healer hesitantly. Damean nodded again. "If he is a prisoner, then why have I healed him?" The Crown Prince snapped out of his daze and gave the healer a sharp look. "He is worth more alive than dead _if_ we decide to ransom him, you fool!" The healer cowered away and bowed. "Forgive me, my Lord."

"Leave! Tell my father when the prisoner is expected to awaken." The healer bowed and hurriedly left. The Prince turned and walked to his room to look over Legolas. The Elf lay on the bed, his hair was matted with blood and dirt. Only his leggings remained on his body; the tunic had been taken off so the healer could bandage the arrow piercing and his boots had been removed. His chest rose up and down as Legolas took in labored breath. His eyelids fluttered and he moved his head slightly higher, exposing his pale, smooth neck. 

Damean stroked Legolas' face, hair, and neck. "You are a beauty."

Responses to reviews:

Lomelinde: Thanx for the review!

Celtic Bard: "nice style" I like that! I've never heard it before! Thanx for reading my story!

Kyma-Lijah-Obsessed: Thank you for your review! And keep writing your story! I want to see who is up next on the gameshow!

Dark Whisperes: I really glad you read my story! I hope you like the next chappy!!! Oh! and I love your name! I don't know why, but it just has a nice ring to it! Lol, I probably sound crazy now!

Luthien Tinuviel: I can't stop beating him!!! It's too much fun!

Jacinta Kenobi: If you say so. I will indeed go wild!

LegolasLover2003: Here's more and Broken will be coming up later. I haven't got any good ideas to finish writing it.

Darkwater: I'm glad you found it interesting! Thank you for your review!

Shauna: Yeah! I'm glad no flames will come from you! But I will still take them! Legolas is my fave character too, but I hate that nothing ever happens to him!!! That's why I like Leggy angst so much!

The Lady Sorcha of Sevenwaters: Woah! You have a long name! Legolas is perfectly fine. (For now!) Enjoy chapter 1!

Littleshinichan: How _do_ you say your name?? Well here is some more of my crappy story. I can't believe anybody actually _liked_ it, let alone read it.

Enigma Jade: Cool name! Backstory? What backstory? I'm confused! This is one of those moments where my blonde side REALLY shows!

Lena: Yea, that would have been better, huh?

A/N: I hope y'all like chapter1! I will work harder to get the next chapter up earlier. Your reviews meant a lot to me! Thank you!!!!!!


	3. Punishment

Disclaimer: See Prologue

A/N:** A lot of the ideas for the Prologue and Chapter 1 came from Aireroswen's story, "Bound and Torn"; but I did it unintentionally. So if anyone who has read her fic, and is reading mine, and you find something that sounds a lot like hers, PLEASE tell me in a review or an e-mail. I do not want to be taking another person's ideas and try to make them my own. So please, if you notice something that I have missed, tell me so that I may correct it. Thank you!**

Chapter 2

The King muttered in his sleep. Dawn would be upon the land in a few short hours and he found it impossible to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber. The King finally sighed and sat up in bed, emitting a cold draft across his wife, which woke her up. "What is it, milord?" she asked sleepily.

"That be-damned Elf!" Quasir exclaimed. "He has something about him that I can't quite place! It maddens me!"

"He's perfect," the Queen murmured. Quasir looked at his wife. "Yes," she continued," he's perfect in every way imaginable. But what puzzles me is, you _think_ of him a slave, you do not treat him as one. Aren't you afraid he will escape? And another thing; why an Elf?" The Queen smiled and patted her husband's arm. "Get some rest, my darling; we will have a busy day tomorrow." 

The King sighed again. He really nothing against the Elven race; his father, the Old King, had and his son was more like the Old King every single day. But Quasir had a thirst for power and land. He would do almost _anything_ to gain more land and to have more people bow down to him. Capturing the Elven prince would surely made Aragorn angry and to get his friend back safely, Quasir knew the Gondorian king would most definitely even give up the throne if Legolas' life depended on it. But this matter could be dealt with when morning came. The Haradrim king lay down next to his wife and fell into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Damean snapped his eyes open as he heard his personal guard yell out a warning. He leapt off the coach he had fallen asleep on and raced to his front door. There he saw the Elven prisoner wrestling with the sentry. "Your Highness," he panted, "help!" Damean kicked Legolas in his midsection, which caused the Elf to slide a couple feet from the two Haradrim. He jumped to his feet only to be pinned to the floor beneath the heavy, smelly guard.

Reinforcements came and hauled Legolas out from underneath their comrade and closed manacles around his slim wrists. They then pushed the Elven prince against the wall and one held a sword to the base of his throat. Legolas slowed his racing heart and willed himself to breathe more quietly. "That was very stupid, Prince Legolas," Damean spoke calmly and peacefully. His eyes and face betrayed the look of anger, admiration, hate, and something Legolas didn't recognize. "And for that display of foolishness, you will be punished."

Legolas stared at Damean with his intense blue eyes. A breeze blew around him, bringing with it the scent of sand and pine. He closed his eyes and inhaled the wind, remembering times when he would lay out in a clearing in the woods, watching the clouds. He could lie there all day with moving a muscle. A harsh slap to the face brought him back to reality. "Answer your Prince when he asked you a question!" one of the men said gruffly. Legolas continued to stare with his piercing gaze. 

Damean sighed. "Fine!" he snapped. "Take him to chamber KK-1928. I will be there shortly with Master Shedlock."

Responses to Reviews

Aireroswen: I would like to deeply apologize again. I seriously had NO intention of doing what I did. Please point out anymore mistakes that I may have in the chapters to come. I will re-read them to make sure, but I might miss something. If you notify my about it, I will most definitely mention that you own that idea/phrase in my next update.

Exrated: Hears the next chapter! I am so sorry it took longer than I anticipated.

Red Autumn: Here's the next chappy! I hope you liked it. Thanks for the review!

Avril: Yep! All girls gotta have some fun. I just love to have my fun with Leggy!

Nessie: Thank you!!!!! I appreciate the time you took to review my story.

Lomelinde: Yes, he his very evil.


	4. Unlikely Surprises

Disclaimer: Don't own Legolas, jus' borrowin' him. I'll return himsooner or later.

**__**

HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!!

A/N: For anyone who wants the chapters longer, just yell at me in your reviews. K?

Chapter 3

Aphadon raced back to the spot where his master was captured with twenty proven warriors following him. He nuzzled the dirt and Legolas forgotten weapons that lay upon the ground. The leader of the company jumped from his horse and kneeled on the ground, inspecting it with his keen eyes. Worn tracks of hooves and feet shown on the ground. The Elf went a little further and saw what could have been a slight scuffle. "Lumlier! Come here! Tell me what you see."

Lumlier jogged over to Falacas and peered closely at the ground. Faint marks of what looked like dried blood was found a large boulder. Elven tracks could be seen but the stopped at the boulder. "Maybe," offered Lumlier, "he fell and hit his head on the boulder which made him fall unconscious and someone carried him." The captain nodded his fair head in agreement.

"I think they headed south," said Falacas turning his head that direction.

"Let us stop by Gondor and tell King Elessar what our theory is of Prince Legolas' fate," said Lumlier. Falacas shook his head.

"His Majesty has already sent a messenger to Elessar. He has probably already invaded all parts of Arda even remotely close to disliking Gondor. We must go back to Mirkwood, speak to King Thranduil, ask for aid from Rivendell and Lothlorien, and know for sure who took our Prince." Falacas took a deep breath and grimaced.

Lumier and Falacas climbed back into their saddles and faced their companions. Falacas shouted, "Maethor! Noro uf!"

The Wood-Elves galloped in unison back to their native land.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Smack.

"I told you not to vex me Elf!"

Smack.

"Did you listen? No!"

Smack. Smack.

"So?"

Silence.

Master Shedlock stepped back in complete surprise. "What did you say to me Elf?" he asked breathing heavily.

"You heard me, _Master _Shedlock!" Legolas said quietly. He straightened himself in the tight grip of the two men holding him. Halfway through the "lesson", Legolas had slumped forward, trying to escape into the precious world of dreams. This torment had been going on for a week and Legolas had had little sleep. He glared at the middle-aged black man with defiance set deeply in his furious gaze. The smith glared back.

"Turn 'im 'round," Master Shedlock growled. The men holding Legolas turned his back to the smith so that he was unable to see what the man was doing.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. 

Legolas arched his back and cried out "Daro!" The smith glanced back at his Highness not knowing what to do. Legolas had been ordered _never_ to speak in his tongue again; he had listened to that rule up until now. Damean stepped in front of the Silvan Elf and slapped him across the face. Legolas' head flung back and slightly touched the man standing there, Aragorn.

Eek!!! Yuck!! I didn't like this chapter, and I know it was short, but to satisfy my reviewers, I put it up. Should I keep the whole Aragorn think at the end??? Did it suck??? TELL THE TRUTH!!!!!!

Maethor! Noro uf! = Warriors! Move out!

Responses to Reviews:

Lomelinde: No! Nothing bad atall!! But I guess you can rate the badness yourself. I think I should change this to rated G

Avril: There are definitely not enough ways of torturing the damn Elf!!! Grrr!!

Exrated : Spawn of Sage: Yep here's another chappy!!! Hope you enjoy!!

Lena: Yep, I know. ~hits self on the head~ Give me some ideas!!! And I'll gladly tell everyone they you're ideas, but I'm usin' 'em!!

MoroTheWolfGod: Here's some more!!!!

Kyma-Lijah-Obsessed: I'll try to make all my chapters longer!! Oh and I loved your chapter in your fic!!! PLEASE UPDATE!!!!

Eck: Thank you for your review!! Just to let ya know: blondes can NEVER be unconfusing. Lol, and here I am, dissing myself!! 


	5. Death and Friendship

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the hotties in this story!!

A/N: I'll try to make the chapters longer, I swear!!! Don't kill me!!! Oh yes and I've decided to do the reviews at the beginning of the chapter this time. Hopefully this lil chappy will be a quick update; that is what is meant for it. Translations at the end.

Responses to Reviews:

Avril: Actually, I don't know it's true intention!!! I guess it could be funny! Lol read to find out with Aragorn.

EMerald QUeen: You know, to tell you the truth, I almost feel sorry for how much torture Leggy gets from people. Almost. I'll try to make the chapters longer, I promise!! Lol, I ain't gonna tell you nuthin' 'bout Aragorn. Well maybe ok he _is_ a prisoner, but not physically mentally is more like it. He he!!! Looks like our little Ranger has gone to the dark side! ~gasps and covers mouth~ Did I say that?! Shame on me!!

Roseoftheworld: Don't worry!!!! I love flames!!!! WellI don't love 'em, but I don't mind getting them. In fact any flames that I do get, I usually laugh hysterically, thinking about the idiot that actually thinks I'm gonna stop writing becuz they have a problem with it. Finish reading and tell me what you think, k?

Smileychildpjz: *gasp* Ooohhh!!!! Girl, you did NOT just say that!! Lol, I also have to admit that Aragorn is fine, BUT (there is always a but) my Leggy is hotter!! He he he!! Your man has gone to the dark side, I'm afraid to say! Lol, some people only get sexier when they do that!!

A/N: Before you guys bite my head off, I just want to say that Leggy calls Aragorn Estel (most of the time) but I AM going to refer to him as Aragorn. K??? 

On with the story

Chapter 4

"Estel!" exclaimed Legolas. "What are you doing here?"

The Gondor King patted the Elf's shoulder. "I was summoned here by a very old friend toplay." Damean smiled wickedly; his plan was set. Soon, all Men will bow to him.

"Estel? Areare you feeling okay?" Legolas asked in a hushed tone, his face twisted with fear and concern. Aragorn smiled and nodded. "Fine, little prince, perfectly fine!" Legolas looked into Aragorn's eyes and uttered a moan. Instead of the usual warm, joyful, kindness that was in the gray depths, Legolas found malice, betrayal, coldness, and a thirst for blood— Elven blood. "Estel! What happened to you?! Youyour eyes! They're _cold_!"

The Human beamed at what he thought was stupidity. _The Elf is so innocent, so young, so_ **real**, thought Aragorn. _My, my! I'm really going to love breaking him. Damean never said that Legolas didn't know about this trade. Hmm nevertheless! I was called here to teach Legolas how to submit to a master, and teach I will! This is going to be _so much fun_!_

Legolas stared at his friend. What's wrong with him? Why suddenly betray Legolas? They had been the best of friends ever since Legolas mother had died.

FLASHBACK

"Come here, my little Greenleaf," called Thranduil in a soothing voice. Legolas stepped out of the shadows with a tear stained face. "What's wrong, fion nin?"

Legolas looked up at Thranduil with wide, bright blue eyes and asked, "Naneth's firn?" Thranduil sighed; his youngest son wasn't supposed to know that his mother had passed away just moments before. The Golden King blamed his other to sons for informing their brother that he'd never get the chance to see his mother again. "Let's go back to your room; there I will explain."

"Va! Treneri nin! Saes" Legolas begged. His eyes began to fill with salty water and his chin trembled. 

"Ai, little Greenleaf! She has left us, for now. But we will indeed join her sooner or later," answered the Elf-King. _Me, definitely sooner. I will most likely die from a very broken heart._

"Come, get some rest. We are leaving for Rivendell tomorrow."

The King of Mirkwood slept in his son's room that night. Legolas fell in and out of nightmares from the scene that had plastered itself in his mind's eye: the last breath he ever saw his mother take.

*~*~*~* The sentries rushed in the palace carrying a limp form. Even though Elves are light-footed, the guards were in such a hurry to get to the healer's ward that they made quite a ruckus. Legolas leaped out of the way as his Father came tearing around the corner and down the hall, his two other sons following closely. "What happened?!" the King roared.

A breathless guard pounded on the wooden door to the healer's ward while answering, "Found her in the woods *pant* covered in *pant* spider webs! We killed most *pant, pant* of those bloody demons, but *pant* some got away. We came here immediately."

"Let me see her," whispered the King. The Elven beauty was gently lowered into her husband's open arms while he rushed into the tower and laid her on a healing bed. Thranduil ordered Legolas to be kept out so that he wouldn't have to see his dying mother.

After working on saving her mutilated body, the healers left their rulers alone in the room. The Queen fluttered her eyes open and offered a weak smile to her lover. He softly kissed her chapped lips and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. "Thank you," she barely whispered. The King kissed her again and said, "I love you so much."

"I know. I love you too." Thranduil started to cry silently. She reached up and wiped a tear away before collapsing in exhaustion. Legolas slipped into the room in time to hear his mother's last words: "Tell Legolas I love him more than life itself." Then she died. Legolas turned and hid until his Father found him.*~*~*~*

The next day Legolas and his Father traveled - in disguise - from Mirkwood to Rivendell. Lord Elrond recognized his old friend immediately, but the wee Elf, he knew not of. Thranduil introduced them before pulling Elrond into a room and closed the door, leaving Legolas outside.

"Elrond, please, he needs to stay here and get over his grief before he comes home. Legolas is so much more fragile than the other two. Please. I just lost my wife. I can't bear to lose a son. He's so young! He's got his whole life ahead of him! Please!" 

"Don't worry, don't worry! I will care for the child until he has overcome the death. Though, I must ask, why did you not tell me when Legolas was born? I have yet to see his face; he kept his hood up! Do you think he will fade in grief?" Elrond asked. Thranduil shrugged and rubbed his chin.

"I must go. The longer I stay, the more I hate the idea of leaving Legolas. We haven't been separated for more than a day in the thousand years that he has lived. Namaarie, maar ndil!"

Thranduil opened the door and nearly tripped on the creature sitting in front of it. Legolas leapt from the ground and bowed before shoving his way into his father's strong embrace. Thranduil hugged him fiercely before setting him down and walked quickly to the stables for a fresh horse. Legolas followed his father with Elrond tailing both of them. The Golden King chose a butterscotch stallion and mounted. Legolas stood by the horse confused. "Ada?"

Thranduil shook his head, knowing his son's unasked question, and galloped out of the gate and into the woods. Legolas raced after him, terrified of staying in this unknown place alone. Elrond grabbed Legolas around the waist and held him so that he could not pursue his father. Tears coursed down his face. "Ada! Seas!" Legolas screamed after the retreating figure. "Teli ad! Deri! Ada! Teli ad!"

Elrond carried the screaming, kicking Elfling past his three sons and his daughter and into a spare room. He put Legolas on the bed and stroked his back until he stopped crying. Arwen came and asked if she could help with anything. Legolas spoke suddenly. "Glin," he whispered. Arwen smiled and sang him to sleep.

The next day, Legolas washed his face but pulled the dark green hood on immediately. Apparently, he had forgotten to take it off the day before, but he was glad. People in Mirkwood and Laketown considered him the most beautiful creature to ever grace Middle Earth. He didn't want to draw attention to himself; looks of lust were the very last thing he needed.

The Human Elrond had adopted knocked softly on the door. "Prince Legolas? It's Estel. Lord Elrond's son. Ada wanted to know if you would join us for breakfast." No reply. Estel knocked again; still no sign of life inside the room. Estel opened the door and stepped inside. "Prince Legolas?" 

A figure clad in green and brown sat in a corner in the large room. "Laa hanta."

"Excuse me, but, is it true that your mum is dead? I head rumors and I wanted to know," the Human asked bluntly. Legolas' head shot up and he stood shakily. Gray eyes could just make out a pair of piercing blue eyes in the darkness that masked Legolas' face.

"Ta uuye il-lyaa vanima an ista!" Legolas whispered coldly. Estel stepped back in slight surprise.

"I I'm sorry! I shouldn't have! Forgive me!" the Man stuttered.

"Ta uuye tereva." Estel bowed his head slightly before asking again, "Will you join us for breakfast?" Legolas shook his head. "Would you like food brought up here?" Legolas shook his head again. "Anything?"

A sudden idea presented itself to the Mirkwood Prince. "Quinga ar wainole quanta pilindi?" Legolas asked with hope dripping of the request. Estel smiled. He remembered his Father saying something about the Mirkwood Elves' love for archery. 

"Coming right up, Prince Legolas," said Estel with laughter in voice.

Estel led Legolas to an open practice and handed him the requested items. Legolas stood in a sideways position and took aim. "Don't you want to take your hood off?" Estel asked. Legolas shot the arrow (which landed on the bulls-eye) and shook his head. "Inye kena I men tereva o an amba," Legolas replied simply.

They took turns shooting all after noon. Finally Lord Elrond called them in to dine. Estel turned to Legolas in expectance for the Elf to follow. "Inye uuve erin sinome." Estel sighed and trudged up to his home while Legolas laid there in the clearing, staring at the stars. _I love you, Amil. Always have, always will. Even if you are gone._ He cried himself to sleep.

"Ada!" Estel cried while bursting into his father's study. "Legolas' wanwa! Rinka!" Elrond leapt from his chair and raced down the hall to Legolas' room.

"Legolas! Where are you? Legolas!" he yelled. To Estel he said, "Where did you leave him last night, Estel? Where?" The Human child thought for a second before saying, "He wanted to stay in the open training field last night. I thought I heard him come back really early this morning but I was too tired to check and make sure."

"Come, let's look in the fields." Elrond jogged to the open-target practice area and shouted out Legolas' name. The Elfling, hearing his name being called, ran out of the nearby forest. "Man?" he asked his dark green hood was still pulled over his head. Elrond willed his racing heart to slow. "Ai! We thought you had run away. Don't disappear like that again! What were you doing out there alone?"

"Raime. Inye weere il-an nornoro vahaiya," said Legolas. Elrond nodded satisfied. "Let's play Legolas!" Estel suddenly burst out. Although they could not see it, Legolas smiled faintly. "Lyaa ta!" he said while tagging Estel. He ran off in a sudden spurt of speed and taunted the Human into playing with him.

Estel smiled and ran after the Elfling. They played tag the whole day until Legolas finally surrendered when Estel tackled him. The Human rolled off and gleefully announced, "I win! Hey! Can I see your face now? Or are you gonna stay hidden all the time?"

Legolas hesitated and then very cautiously lifted the hood from his head and ran a hand through his blonde hair. Estel gasped softly amazed at the beauty that lay beside him. Legolas stared at the Human with wide, blue eyes, afraid of what Estel was thinking. 

After a while, when the mortal had said nothing, Legolas turned his body away from the mortal. Estel propped his upper body on his elbow and asked, "Friends?" The Elf looked at the Human and slowly nodded. "Friends," he said. Estel grinned broadly. "Good, good!" the Human said. "How 'bout another round of tag?" Legolas laughed and nodded before racing up to the palace with Estel right behind him grinning.

END FLASHBACK

__

What happened to that smile? thought Legolas. _Why did he change?_

Aragorn licked his lips and clapped his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we? I know exactly what I want to do." But before he could tell the Prince of Harad what he had planned, a guard walked in and told Damean that the King had ordered him to meet him in the throne room.

"All right!" he cried in frustration. "I'll be there in a moment! Aragorn, my friend, is there anything you'll be needing before you retire?"

The King answered, "Have our Elven guest delivered to my room after sunset." 

Damean grinned evilly. "Of course! I'm sure you have something to say to him."

"More like show."

A/N: Oh my gosh!!! That was like THE longest flashback ever!! And Legolas was being a pain in da bootie by sayin' everything in Elvish! *glares at the blonde archer (who grins)* Oh well, can't stay mad at him too long, not with that smile!!

Fion nin= My son

Naneth's firn= Mother's dead

Va! Treneri nin! Saes= No! Tell me! Please

Namaarie, maar ndil= Farewell, good friend

Ada= Father

Ada! Seas! Teli ad! Deri! Ada! Teli ad!= Father! Please! Come back! Stop! Father! Come back!

Glin= sing

Laa hanta= No, thanks

Ta uuye il-lyaa vanima an ista= It is not your right to know

Ta uuye tereva= It is fine

Quinga ar wainole quanta pilindi= Bow and quiver full of arrows

Inye kena i men tereva o ta amba= I see the spot fine with it up

Inye uuve erin sinome= I will remain here

Legolas' wanwa! Rinka!= Legolas is gone! Quick!

Man?= What?

Raime. Inye weere il-an nornoro vahaiya= Hunting. I promise not to run far away

Lyaa ta= You're it


	6. Author's Note

Author's Note:

ATTENTION ALL READERS!!! I NEED SERIOUS HELP!! PLEASE! I HAVEN'T GOT ANY MORE IDEAS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!! SO IF ANY OF YOU ACTUALLY WANT ME TO FINISH IT, I NEED SUGGESTIONS!! DON'T WORRY, I WILL DEFINITELY TELL THE PEOPLE THAT THEY WERE NOT MY IDEAS! PLEASE EITHER REVIEW ME OR E-MAIL ME IF YOU HAVE ANY COMMENTS. (I will post the answers to the last chapter's reviews in the next chapter's reviews, ok?)

THANKS FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPPORT!!

Andmetwen


	7. More Complications

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just borrowin'!!

A/N: Alright, I'm really sorry for not writing but I had NO ideas for the next chapter. I want to thank everyone who answered my plea for help. And I am telling you right now that I will be using Cheysuli's idea. Is that ok with everyone?? Oh yeah in the last chapter, I said Legolas was a thousand years old when he met a young Aragorn, and the dude is still alive after almost 2000 years, yeah, that will be explained later. Hehehe, I'm surprised nobody caught that!! =)

On with the story

Chapter 6

"Show, eh?" Aragorn nodded.

"Shall I have a servant clean him before he is delivered to your services?" Legolas winced when Aragorn nodded again. "Delivered" and "services" did not sound very good to him. "Very well! Lillian!" the Prince barked. A young, pretty maid revealed her hiding spot with a pained look on her face: one of pity and of fear. "See to it that our little guest here is cleaned up and brought safely to King Aragorn's chambers! Understand?!"

"Yes milord," said the maid, sinking into a curtsy when he swept past her; Aragorn followed closely.

The men holding the Silvan Elf let go of his arms unexpectedly. Legolas fell lightly to the ground but quickly picked himself up and leaned heavily against the wall. Lillian cautiously walked toward the Elf. "If you'll follow me please? It will be over before you know it," she said sweetly. Legolas looked into her bright violet eyes and saw concern etched in them.

He knew she thought he'd hurt her the moment they were alone, but Legolas vowed to make sure that any innocent lives that he might encounter during his stay there would remain unharmed unless necessary. He silently started to follow her but was held back by a rough hand.

"Stay righ' there, Elf. I need to secure ye wi' these," a low voice growled. Legolas turned around to find Master Shedlock holding thick chains. More humans appeared and held his arms tightly while Shedlock wrapped the chains around Legolas' slim wrists. The iron snaked around his ankles and with a loud snap, the Master locked the two pieces of chain together. 

He handed the key to Lillian and said, "There, ye go, Lillian me sweet! Keep an I on this one 'ere. Oh and, make sure ye make a round at my quarters before ye retire." The hateful man swept down and claimed the maid's small mouth roughly. When he let her go, Lillian stepped back white and shaking and walked as quickly as possible out the door. Legolas followed her but not before a growl sounded low in his throat, signaling his deep hatred. 

Lillian led him through a maze of hallways before finally stopping in a small room completely decked in marble. "Sit," she commanded gently. Legolas sat on a stone bench to the left of a large tub full of steaming hot water. Lillian quickly undid the warrior braids in Legolas' hair before taking out the key and slowly unlocked the chains.

"Undress and bathe yourself quickly for it is almost sunset. Here is a towel and washing oil for your hair. I will wait for you in the hall with your clothes. Don't try to escape because there are guards next door." The maid left and Legolas heard her sigh wearily before she closed the door.

The Elven Prince took of his soiled leggings and slipped into the water. _This feels really good, _he thought, not remembering the last time he had had a warm bath. He scrubbed the dirt and dried blood from his lithe frame before washing his almost brown hair. After soaking for ten minutes in the now dirty water, Legolas climbed out and dried himself off.

"Come in!" Legolas called softly after wrapping the white towel around his waist to hide his nakedness. Lillian bustled in carrying a robe the color of a deep, rich purple.

"Here. Put this on. I'll re-braid your hair after." She turned around respectfully and waited for him to dress. Legolas slipped the silky garment over his head and looked at himself in the mirror. The robe was much too big for him; he reached for his leggings and began to tear a piece of cloth off the right leg to tie around his waist.

"Wait! Stop! I have this for you!" cried the female. The Elf straightened up and looked at the object she was holding: a thin, but strong silver chain. She walked forward and wrapped it around his waist. Obviously, the chain was made for a person larger than Legolas, but Lillian just drew the lock tighter. 

By now Legolas' locks had dried enough for it to return back to its golden state with a ring of light around his head coming from the soft glow of the candles. She smiled softly before picking up a wooden brush and asked him to sit again. Legolas refused politely. He took the brush and swiftly dragged it through his fine hair. His nimble fingers worked fast in putting his braids back in their place.

"Now you're ready. King Aragorn will be pleased." She picked up the chains and led him to the door. But instead of putting them on him, Lillian simply gestured from him to follow her. 

"You're not going to put the chains back on?" Legolas asked, hoping that the answer would be no.

"No, but I'm sure King Aragorn will have a way ofrestraining you. Come on. We are going to be late."

Legolas stepped into the hall and was immediately grabbed by two armed soldiers. He struggled slightly but hung his head in defeat when one kicked his legs out from beneath him. The Elf was allowed to regain his footing and he let himself be led away from comfortable bathing room. Lillian followed closely behind, flirting with the taller of the two men.

They stopped by a large oak door a little while later. Lillian knocked lightly on the door and called out Aragorn's name. The King opened the door and stepped aside to let the soldiers and Lillian escort Legolas to a thick wooden post in the corner of the luxurious room.

"One of you will collect Prince Legolas when I am through with him. Dismissed!" The guards scurried out of the room as fast as they could. Lillian set the chains on a nearby chair and handed the silver key to Aragorn. "Just in case you need it," she said in a low voice.

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Of course. If you would so kind as to inform Prince Damean that I will have his guest here all night and well into the next day." Lillian bowed and left to deliver her message.

Meanwhile, Legolas stood next the post, not sure of what to do. Aragorn closed the space between them much faster than any normal man would've been able to, and smacked Legolas soundly across the face.

Taken by surprise, the Prince of Mirkwood staggered back in the wall. Aragorn forced the Elf to kneel with his back against the rough post. He tied Legolas' hands behind it with a type of rope with metal in it. "Don't fight it," warned Aragorn. "You'll only hurt yourself more." He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair and his face twisted with disgust.

"I'm going to bathe. Remember what I said and you'll be fine." The human stalked into a smaller adjoining room and slammed the door shut.

Legolas sighed. _What did I ever _do_? _he thought. _Why? Where is Ada? Someone _must've_ told him by now! Ai, Elbereth!_

A young maid came in about ten minutes later to deliver clean clothes and towels. She dropped them in a heap and practically ran over to Legolas. "What happened?" she exclaimed. Legolas lifted his head slowly. Pain, confusion, and sadness filled the blue depths. "Tua amin!" he replied in barely more than a whisper. **{Help me}**

The maid cocked her head to the side. "I'm sorry. I don't understand Elvish." Legolas shrugged. She knelt behind the Sindarin Elf and began to untie the intricate knot.

She had just managed to release Legolas from the pole when Aragorn stepped out of the room, washed and fully clothed. His eyes widened when he saw the Elf free. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" he roared.

Legolas saw his opportunity and sprinted to the door and down the next hall. Aragorn ordered the terrified maid to stay in the room while he tried to catch Legolas. Meanwhile the Elf was fighting off three unprepared guards. Aragorn quickly followed the sound of combat and tackled the troublemaker. Legolas fell to the floor with a grunt. The Gondorian straddled the Elf and bound his slim wrists behind him with a silk sash. "I told you _not_ to fight. Did you listen to my wise words? Damean won't be happy with his soon-to-be consort, now will he?"

Legolas froze at those words. _Consort?! I can't be his consort!! I have my whole life ahead of me!_

"What is the meaning of this?!" shouted a voice behind the four humans and the Elf. Aragorn glanced behind his shoulder and saw Damean jogging up the corridor. 

"He escaped, Damean. My only means were to catch him," explained Aragorn. The Haradrim looked unconvinced.

"I think I should take him tonight, seeing as you can't control him." The Prince reached for the arm of the blonde Elf but was stopped by Aragorn's hand.

"I can handle this situation myself, but thank you for your offer Damean. Although, I must ask, what are_ you_ doing in the West Wing? Your living quarters are on the North Tower, quite a ways from here."

"I actually came looking for you. My father wants us both in his private study now. It took a while to track you down since nobody knew where you went accept, of course, Arwen, which I had trouble with to. So"

Legolas drowned out the deep voice and wondered what the Undomial was doing here in Harad. He wondered if she knew he was here also and if she knew something was seriously wrong with her husband. **(A/N: Although, with Aragorn, it is hard to tell. He was born with mental complications =)**

"him back in your room and come with me. I'm sure the Queen can look after him. Hurry!"

Legolas was brought back to the dreary bedroom and tied once again to the wooden pole. Aragorn let a flicker of pity and remembrance pass through his heart when he saw Legolas hang his head low, shielding his face, but he quickly squashed it. _Come now, Aragorn. Don't get all sentimental over a single prince. Even if he was at a time your best friend_ Aragorn mentally kicked himself and walked away.

A/N: A crappy way to end the chapter, eh? Yeah, but I gotta post something before I lose my reviewers, now don't I? Anyway, I'm too lazy to answer the reviews I promise I will next time though, ok? Good.

****


	8. Hard Desicions

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just borrowin'!!

A/N: OMG!!! I am SOOOOOO sorry!!! I had a major writers' block and I couldn't think of anything to write, even with all the ideas you guys gave me. I hope you guys haven't thought me dead. I really didn't mean not write for so long. I truly am really sorry. I'll even let you guys' flame me and I won't care. I promise!!! Once again, so sorry.

And on with the story

Chapter 7

The Mirkwood guards rode into the Palace Gates at a full gallop and swiftly dismounted. Lumlier and Falacas handed their horses over to two of the remaining eighteen guards and made their way to the King's throne room to deposit the weapons they had found and voice their opinion of what course of action should be taken. Both of the Sindar Elves hoped their King was in an extremely good mood for they knew his temper would flare very high when they told him what they found. Unfortunately, their wishes were denied.

Lumlier and Falacas found Thranduil angrily pacing the length of the throne room. Once closer, the guards could see he kept looking at a piece of parchment in his hand. Lumlier reached for Legolas' weapons on his back, but Falacas caught his hand and shook his head no. This was not exactly the time to make their King livid with rage.

"My Lord?" Lumlier asked, speaking softly in case Thranduil decided to explode. "May I inquire as to what has made you so – infuriated?

The King stopped pacing, his back to the two Elves. "King Elessar has betrayed me, has betrayed Legolas!" Thranduil slowly faced his soldiers and raised his eyes from the parchment. "My son is to die at the hands of the Haradrim Prince Damean and Elessar in five days time if I do not agree to their terms. Even if we tried to save Legolas, we would never make it in time.

Lumlier and Falacas each felt there heart break. Even though they couldn't feel the pain Thranduil was going through, they loved Legolas: as their friend, as their Prince, and as their Captain. Falacas was first to break the silence that had settled over the three. "Who supplied you with this information, My Lord?"

"The Evenstar. Elbereth bless her! She sent one of her Elven servants to me from Harad before Elessar cut her off from all life outside Damean's palace. The Elf made it here just hours before you two arrived. I'm surprised you didn't see him." After that Thranduil fell silent. He walked to his throne and sat with his head in his hands.

Finally, after not being able to stand the heavy silence no longer, Lumlier burst out, "My King! Do not tell me that you are going to sit and do nothing! We can still save Legolas! Just command us and we could be ready before the sun sets!"

"I wish I could but only if you knew" the Elf trailed off.

"Your Majesty?" asked Falacas quietly, "what were the terms for the safe return of Legolas.

"King Quasir and Prince Damean want me to abdicate my rule over Mirkwood and become a servant to the Harad royal family," the King whispered with venom and fire laced with every word he said. "If I do, Legolas will be Damean's consort. If I don't Legolas is dead. Either way, he's damned to hell."

A knock suddenly sounded on the side door. Thranduil lifted his head quickly and brushed back stray pieces of hair back before setting his crown on his head. Lumlier opened the door to admit Falacas' wife, Fallandra, into the room. Falacas immediately assumed a worried face. "Is everything okay? Is the baby alright?"

Fallandra smiled. "She's fine. I just came to deliver these letters to His Majesty." She walked to the throne and curtsied before handing to envelopes to him. One had the Gondor royal stamp and the other had the Harad royal stamp.

Fallandra curtsied again before walking over to her husband and let him fold his arms around her slim shoulders. He rested his head on top of hers and waited for Thranduil to open the letters.

Thranduil sighed with relief when he saw the one from Gondor contained the monthly crop and trade report from the Steward. He set the letter aside and was about to open the other when he looked at the soldiers and asked," Did you find anything out there where Legolas' horse led you?"

Lumlier nodded and slowly lifted the quiver and bow from his back and laid them at Thranduil's feet. He gulped and turned his attention back to the letter. He broke the seal with shaking hands and pulled the parchment from the envelope. As he unfolded it, a piece of cloth fell into his lap. He picked it up only to be brought more dread: it was the Mirkwood Royal insignia that Legolas wore on his tunic. He choked back a sob when he realized the usual hunter green cloth was stained red-brown with blood.

"What does the letter say, Your Majesty?" asked Falacas.

"Prince Damean is reminding me of his terms and letting me know he is decreasing the time to three days instead of five." Thranduil felt tears form in his eyes. He closed them and willed the tears to stop flooding his eyes. 

He faintly heard Lumlier yelling, "Let us go, My Lord! We have time! Please!" Fallandra's quiet sobbing mixed with Lumlier's voice. When Thranduil opened his eyes, lightning shot through them with pure hatred running deep for Damean and Aragorn.

"Falacas, Lumlier, assemble the Mirkwood army. We are going to war."

Aragorn met an impatiently waiting Damean in the same hall he had found the King in. Damean started to talk about the plans for Legolas and the letter he had sent to Mirkwood. Aragorn listened with only half of his attention for the rest was back with the captive Elf prince.

A sudden sharp pain in Aragorn's stomach sent him to his knees. He wrapped an arm around his midsection as the pain intensified. He started to gasp for air for he couldn't find enough strength to draw breath. Damean knelt beside the King and pushed back the hair from his sweaty forehead. Aragorn's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward into Damean, unconscious. Two guards rushed forward to help their Prince. "Get him to my Father! Quick!"

The Humans hurried to Qausir's study and set Aragorn in an empty chair. The Haradrim King stood quickly and hurried to the side of the son of Arathorn. "What happened?!" he demanded.

"I don't know, Father. One minute we were walking here and he seemed perfectly fine, but then he just fell and wrapped his arm around his stomach and lost consciousness. I brought him here because I didn't know what to do," explained Damean in a rush.

Quasir smiled gently. "It's alright, my son. Don't worry. You did nothing wrong. The potion that I had the village witch make must've wore off. She said he would feel pain and then would faint. I just have to get him to drink some more of the potion and he'll be fine."

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me? I thought that cursed Elf wounded him!" Damean exclaimed.

"For now, we can do nothing. He will be unconscious until after the sunrises. Just have him set in his bed and post guards at the door to make sure he doesn't do anything rash. I will see you tomorrow morning. Bring King Aragorn with you." 

Damean bowed his head and ordered the soldiers to carry the King back to his room. The Prince followed them just in case another mishap occurred with Legolas. The men gently deposited Aragorn on the soft silk sheets and went to go stand at their posts right outside the door. Damean stood looking at Aragorn for a moment before turning to Legolas. To his surprise, a young maid was leaning on the Elf, her head on his shoulder, fast asleep. Legolas head was resting against the pole, his eyes open, but glazed over, as is the sleep of the Elves.

Damean walked over and slapped Legolas across the face. The Mirkwood Prince jumped and came back into reality; the maid opened her eyes slowly and gasped as she saw Damean. "What do you think you are doing, my love?" he asked sweetly.

The maid looked at him with fearful eyes and answered, "King Aragorn told me to stay here. He came back but did not notice me. Then he left after tying Prince Legolas to the pole."

"And you thought you would just snuggle up to the Elf and no one would notice, did you?" the Haradrim asked in the same sweet voice.

"Leave her alone, snake," Legolas growled." She fell asleep because I was singing."

"Singing!?" Damean repeated, not sure if he heard right. "You were weaker than I thought, _Prince_ Legolas. Have a nice night," he said with a smirk before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

A/N: UmI'm not gonna reply to reviews this time cause I don't really have the time at the moment but I promise I will next. OK? I also need help with naming my chapters and stuff. So if any of you guys have suggestions, I'd appreciate it!! I know I didn't explain the potion thingy, but I will next chapter. I promise! And I know Aragorn, Thranduil, and Legolas are completely OOC but I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Thanks to everyone! Hope y'all enjoyed!! *hands out a cookie to everyone who read this*

~*~*~Andmetwen~*~*~


	9. Revelations

Disclaimer: Don't own I've said that so many times, that now, I don't really care!

A/N: Hope you guys liked the last chapter! *hopeful face* Ok, guess not. Um, yeah, nothing really to say

Special thanks to beta reader Sirith! Thanks a lot!! She's got REALLY good stuff. So, if you haven't read it, go check it!

Um, I forgot to mention this in my last chapter: don't mind the Prologue warning. There is no slash yet. I know the story may _say_ there will be, with the whole consort thing, but so far there has been nothing. So for all of you who don't like slash, you don't have to worry until next chapter. But it will not be implied! I promise!

Thoughts are in Italics.

Warning: The beginning might be a little mushy

The sun was just rising over the hills as Falacas opened the door to his home. The smells of baked bread and freshly picked fruit wafted through the air and surrounded him. He smiled, knowing Fallandra wasn't expecting him home so early, but he liked the idea of surprising her better. He left the front hall of the large house and walked silently to the kitchen where he found his Elven wife sleepingsoundly in the chair beside the table. He set the documents he was holding on the counter and sneaked up behind Fallandra and wrapped his arms around her waist. She jumped, not knowing who the mysterious person was and smacked the being with a wooden spoon she hadbeen stirring the porridge with before she had fallen asleep.

"Ow!" Falacas exclaimed. "Well good morning to you too!"

"Oh, sorry, baby! I didn't know who you were," she apologized. Suddenly remembering what had happened the day before, Fallandra asked, "What did the King order?"

"We are leaving in an hour. He just has to send off a few messengers to Laketown and Rivendell, and then we head out." Falacas sighed and sat at the table, rubbing his weary eyes. He and Lumlier and been up all night with the King and a few other high ranking nobles, discussing war tactics and the best way to save their Prince without having to sacrifice the lives of their kin. Luckily, Lumlier had a room at the Palace that he usually stayed at. Falacas, on the other hand, lived several miles out in the country. At least twenty minutes from the Palace at a steady trot.

"Why so soon? Thranduil should know you need more rest. I mean you just got back from the desert and he kept you up all night! Now he wants to ride all day without stopping until he reaches Harad! Couldn't you skip the journey just this once?"

Falacas looked at his wife with disbelieving eyes. "Obviously, _you've_ never lost a loved one. Well I have. I lost my _whole_ _family_ to bloody human _torture_! Legolas has been out there for more than a week at the mercy of those filthy humans! I love him as my brother. He is my Captain. Fallandra, I can't bear to lose another immortal life that I love to mortals!" Falacas said, coldly. "So if you don't care about anybody other than yourself, then get out of my way and let me try to save a person that I care about!"

Falacas stood suddenly after glaring at a shocked Fallandra for a few moments and grabbed the documents from the counter and stormed off. The Elf jumped to her feet when she realized that he was going off to war and that she might never see him alive again. "Falacas! Wait! Please, I didn't mean it that way!" But before she could reach him, Falacas was galloping out of the courtyard on his white gelding and down the lane to the Palace.

Fallandra put her hand to her mouth as she tried to stop herself from screaming her frustration as tears poured down her cheeks. This was her first fight with him in over a thousand years. _I'm so sorry, Falacas. I'm so sorry. Please just come back alive._

Aragorn moaned as light streamed through a crack in the heavy curtains and hit him in the face. He sat up and looked around the room, not knowing where he was. The first thing that registered odd in his mind was the petite maid curled up on the couch that was on the opposite wall of the bed. Aragorn climbed out of the bed and tiptoed softly to her. He shook her shoulder until she opened her amber eyes and looked at him.

"What are you doing in here, miss?" he whispered as he lowered himself to her height.

"You told me to stay here last night after the incident with the Elf, My Lord," she replied, equally quiet.

"What Elf? What incident?" Aragorn inquired curiously.

"You don't remember, My Lord?" Aragorn shook his head. "Tis Prince Legolas."

"Legolas!? What—" The maid pointed over his shoulder to a corner in the room as she sat up. Aragorn looked and to his amazement, saw Legolas kneeling on the ground with his arms tied behind him around a pole. The Mirkwood Prince slept with his head on his chest, his golden hair cascading around his face, shielding it from view. "Legolas?" Aragorn whispered hoarsely. He crawled over to the Elf and shook his shoulders. "Legolas! Wake up!"

The Elf lifted his head slowly and blinked at the sudden burst of light as the maid fully opened the curtains. When his eyes focused on the human in front of him, Legolas' face suddenly changed into a mask of hate and built anger.

"Legolas! What is wrong, my friend?"

"Get away from me Estel! I am no a friend to betrayers such as yourself!" he said with animosity thick in his musical voice. When Aragorn didn't move, Legolas spat in his face and shouted, "Get away from me!"

Tears welled up in Aragorn's eyes as Legolas continued to stare at him with hate. He crept behind the Elf and began to untie the cords keeping his slim hands in place. He put his face close to the pointed ear and whispered, "I don't know what I did, and I can't remember, but please forgive me. Please, believe that I mean it. Legolas, I'm sor—"

"Save you breath, Estel! Just go!"

At that moment shouting could be heard outside the door. Damean and four guards burst in seconds later, just as Aragorn had the knots undone. Legolas jumped to his feet and tried to escape but two men slammed him into the wall, while the other two caught Aragorn and pinned him to the ground. Damean knelt beside him; with one hand he pinched Aragorn's nose. With the other, he uncorked a vial and poured a green liquid down the King's throat.

Aragorn tried to cough it up but Damean had his hand clamped over his mouth. "Swallow it!"

When he was sure everything had gone down the Gondorian's throat, Damean removed his hands and stood, motioning for Aragorn to do the same. The man stood and blinked a few times before smiling at Damean in recognition. 

"Do you remember anything from yesterday, King Aragorn?" the Prince asked. 

Aragorn looked at the Elf and smirked evilly. "Plenty." Damean laughed cruelly as he ushered Aragorn to the bathing room where he dressed. A few minutes later, Aragorn emerged and Damean started talking to him about the plans for expanding Harad. Aragorn cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the maid behind Damean who looked very surprised as to what she was hearing.

"Ah, love, if you'd be so kind and come here," Damean commanded. The maid timidly obeyed the Man and stood before him. "I can't have you repeating this. I hope you understand." In one swift movement, Damean unsheathed his sword that was hanging at his side and decapitated her. Her body stood for a moment before crumbling backwards into Legolas, smearing fresh blood all over his face and chest, staining the purple robe he wore darker. 

"Lle ulundo!" Legolas shouted. "She was an innocent!"[You hideous monster/creature.I think, not completely sure. Thanks Sirith, for finding it for me!]

"Take him to the dungeons!" Aragorn ordered. "I can't stand to listen to that creature talk!"

Legolas couldn't believe what he had just heard. His best friend was ordering him away! He finally decided he wasn't going to be silent anymore; to put it nicely: he snapped. "I'm nothing more than a thing to you, aren't I? You don't care about me, do you? I'm just some toy you _humans_ think you can play with whenever you want to! Well guess what?! I'm not! You can just say good-bye to your _toy_ because I won't." The door slammed shut behind Legolas as the guards pulled the screaming, struggling Elf away.

"God that was annoying!" exclaimed Damean. He stepped back from the door with a grin but it immediately faded as he stepped in a puddle of fast growing blood. "My apologies, Aragorn. I shall have you and your wife moved to the North Tower and this mess cleaned up immediately." 

"Speaking of my wife, where is Arwen? She was supposed to be here to look after Legolas, but she wasn't."

"I believe my mother was with her in the gardens all day. Supposedly, the flowers are blooming as well as she had hoped, so Queen Arwen thinks a bit of Elven love should make them all nice and healthy," said Damean with sarcasm dripping of his words. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of gardens and flowers as he wiped his gleaming sword clean with the victim's apron. "Come! My father wishes to talk with us."

Legolas sat brooding in his cell for the remainder of the morning before a guard came in and chained him to the wall, telling him he had a visitor. The Lady Arwen gracefully glided into the cell. She smiled at the guard and sweetly asked him for some privacy. The human, too awestruck with the beauty of the Evenstar, complied without saying a word. She turned back to Legolas with the deepest pity glowing in her radiant eyes. "I am truely sorry," she whispered. "This never should have happened to you." She pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and started to wipe away some of the maid's dried blood from his face.

"Why are you doing this?" Legolas asked.

"Prince Legolas, can you not see what Damean and his father are trying to do? They want to rule Middle-Earth! Damean has already sent a letter to your father telling him if he wants to see you alive again he must give up Mirkwood. And King Thranduil will."

"He can't! Mirkwood is too important! Lady Arwen, go to my Father and tell him to stay put! Please?" Legolas pleaded. Arwen shook her head. "Arwen, _please!_ Mirkwood and my people shouldn't suffer a lifetime of enslavement because of me. _Please, go!_" The desperation to protect his home was so evident in his voice that Arwen felt tears of sorrow and guilt well up in her eyes.

"I can't, Legolas, I can't. Estel has forbbiden me to go anywhere. Be that as it may, I can't leave you. Estel will hurt you even worse than you can imagine if I'm not here to stop him. He is under a spell that I can't break. He listens to everything Damean says." She stopped to dry her eyes and let Legolas digest what she had just told him.

"Sothe potion he drank this morning makes him submissive to the King and Prince?" Legolas asked.

"Exactly, I've never seen this magic before. It's old and powerful. If only I could talk to my father, he would know what to do. Legolas you know your fates already, don't you?"

"My fates? You mean I have two of them? I thought it was just life enslavement to Damean and his offspring."

"If your father gives up Mirkwood, you're Damean's consort. If he doesn't, they are going to slay you in three days and will try to take over your home anyway. Legolas, this is really bad."

"I know, but what do they want with you and Aragorn?" asked Legolas.

"At this moment, Estel is signing official documents that hands the rule of Gondor over to King Quasir. Under the influence of the potion, he has no idea of what he's doing."

"So he really did mean it" Legolas whispered more or less to himself.

"Mean what, Legolas?" Arwen asked gently.

"This morning, he wasdifferent. He kept saying how sorry he was while he tried to save me. Valar, what have I done?" Legolas stared at Arwen with horror written on his face. "How am I going to fix this?

"I don't know, but—"

"Time's up, milady!" said an awfully cheerful and familiar voice. Arwen stood and turned around to meet Damean and Aragorn. She smiled and curtsied and walked out of the cell, but not before she looked at Legolas with something in her eyes that he couldn't place.

"Tell me, Legolas," Damean said, "are you afraid of anything?" Legolas glared but said nothing. "I figured you'd say that. Aragorn, the water if you please?" Damean held out his hand for the glass the ex King of Gondor held. "Now, will you drink this with a fuss, or do I have to force it down your throat?" 

Without waiting for answer, Damean unlocked the manacles from Legolas' wrists and handed the glass to him. The Elf stared at the water for a minute, trying to detect any poison in it, but couldn't. Finally he looked up. "What did you do to it?" he asked.

Damean chuckled. "Do you honestly think I try to kill my consort? Especially when he's as breathtakingly beautiful as you? You know, Aragorn did ask to for a try with you when you were properly broken in. He was going to test you, see how good a slave you are, serving his personal needs"

Damean stared at the soft lips of the Elf as he spoke. Suddenly not being able to contain himself, he grabbed the immortal's wrists and pinned them to the wall so that he would not be able to strangle the human. Legolas was taken by surprise and dropped the glass with a crash on the stone floor as he tried to move away from the Man. Damean pushed the slim, lithe body into the wall as he crushed his lips against the Elf's.

Legolas tried to move his body, but the human was so heavy. He was trapped as the mortal forced his tongue inside his mouth, and began to explore with it. Legolas moved his head to the side breaking contact with the Prince.Damean, angry with Legolas for doing this, slammed the Elf's head into the wall behind him, sending him into the world of dreams. 

Damean looked behind his shoulder at Aragorn as Legolas' body crumpeled to the floor. "Like what you see, My Lord?"

Aragorn smirked. "Loved it, as a matter of fact. But it would be so much better if he did it willingly and responded to it."

"You know, once the King of Mirkwood gives up his land to us, and the Elf is properly broken in, I might be willing to share him." Aragorn smiled again and ran his hand through his hair. "I would be my pleasure, Prince Damean."

"Excellent!" the Prince said, clapping his hands together. "Help me carry this creature to the woodsmith. He is expecting us."

A/N: Ooh! What's gonna happen with the woodsmith guy and Legolas??. Yeah, I haven't got a clue either. Well, I guess review!! And don't forget to check Sirith's stories too, ok?

Replies to Reviews:

Lady of Mirkwood: Glad you liked it!! Aragorn is being a butt, isn't he? I explained it though, so, I guess no worries!

Toby Keith Fanatic: OMG, I love Toby Keith!!! He has such a great voice! Hope you liked the chapter!!

Sirith: Hello!! Nope, Aragorn really isn't evil, I promise! I don't think he would ever hurt Legolas intentionally. Although, I could make him permanantly evil. Which means he really does like to torture Leggy on purpose. Of course, I don't know what to write, so I can't make him evil just yet, now can I?

Lol, you should make a story called 'Rise of the Evil Author'. That would be hilarious!! I'm working on the next chapter now, but since I didn't pre-plan this, I've got no clue what I'm doing and I'm writing as I go along. And with school starting, I'm gonna have even less time. You know, my first day back to school, and all my teachers already pile loads of bookwork on my agenda?!?! That's just crazy!! They seriously need to get lives or something similar.

Elenillor: Here's the update!! Hope you liked it!

A/N: I know I probably missed a lot of people, but my e-mail decidedone day, that it just didn't like me, so it deleted everything I had saved. I'm really sorry to everybody I missed!! Review please!!

Caio! (how the heck do you spell that?)


	10. Buried Alive

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own LOTR. I've gotten over it. Sort-of. 

A/N: I've actually gotten to hate this fic!! It's so flippin' boring!! It ain't turnin' out the way I wanted it to. If anybody actually really wants me to finish it, tell me in a review. I'm asking at least 5 people to respond to this. If you don't, well I guess that's your problem.

Um, there will be no slash in this chapter. I got a review (not a flame) and said the kiss in the last chapter was way too graphic. I'm sorry if I offended anybody. Don't hate me!?

King Thranduil urged his horse faster as the stars in the sky began to fade. _Two more days,_ he thought, _just two more days! Hold on for me son!_

The Mirkwood army knew they wouldn't make it, but none ever told the King of their doubts. They all feared their beloved Prince dead, but to even breathe a word of such a nasty predicament meant suicide. They would be tried and hung, most likely.

Anybody whose sense wasn't damaged by grief and worry would know that at this pace the horses would die of fatigue. Falacas was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Wondering and worrying about his wife and the Prince brought no comfort to an already tired troubled mind. Legolas, no matter how serious the occasion, never made them gallop at such a pace.

The Elf reined his horse next to the King's. "My Lord?" he asked quietly. When no response came, Falacas continued. "We must stop! The sun is rising and the horses tire. There is an oasis about a league and half to the west. It would be wise to head for there!"

Thranduil heard the plea but did not react to it. All he could think was his son. If the boy had been sent to Mandos, Valar help anybody who crossed his path. "My Lord, please?" Falacas tried again.

The golden haired Elf unsheathed his sword and pointed to the west while turning in the indicated direction. As one, the army twisted and raced for the trees and water where they knew rest would be found however small the amount.

As they slowed to a stop, Thranduil raised his left hand and dismounted. The others followed the course of action quickly. The soldiers handed their reins to a few of the younger Elves while they pitched tents and satisfy their parched throats and grumbling stomachs. After those needs were taken care of, grooming their mounts and refilling water skins became the task at hand.

Lumlier and Falacas entered their liege's small, green tent only to be saddened by the sight of him on his knees, crying. Lumlier knelt by the older being and spoke soft, soothing words in his ear. "What am I going to do?" the King whispered raspy. "If Legolas dies, I have nothing to live for!"

"Legolas will not die, I promise you!" stated Falacas firmly. "If anything, Legolas is strong. He will fight and will not lose hope."

"I hope you're right, I hope you're right." Thranduil's eyes, red from crying, lost focus as he fell into the sleep of the Elves.

Legolas woke with darkness surrounding him. _Where am I?_ His head throbbed something terrible. Memories began flooding into his brain as if a dam had been broken: his capture Aragorn Arwen Damean the kiss his father. Legolas sat up quickly but hit his head extremely hard on something hard and wooden above him.

He felt along the rough surface with a quivering hand. To the left and right was wood. His bare feet scraped on the hard interior if he moved them. His head hit some thing if he moved any which way. _A box? Why am I here?_ he thought. With his fingernails he found the crack where the top of the contraption met the bottom. Something warm and soft was peeking through the edge. Legolas brought his fingers to his nose and breathed. _Dirt? What? Why? _Then his hit him like a thousand knives stabbing him all over his body. His mind shut down from the terror that built up inside him. He was buried alive.

A/N: I know that was very short, but I don't know where my beta reader went and I don't trust myself with anything longer than 1000 words without someone correcting. But never fear! The next chapter will be up no late than Saturday.

Response to Reviews:

Tamara: Is it too sad?? I'm glad you sort-of liked it!!

ElizabethBlack4: I'm sorry!! I didn't mean to put a lot of detail in it! I guess I just wrote what came to mind! Finally!! I person who knows how to spell ciao!! I asked like ten people and they gave me blank stares. Lol, my friends are really weird!!

Elenillor: I feel sorry for Legolas!! Everyone's like bent on hurting him or something!! I'm not really sure how to explain the potion. It just controls the drinker and makes them do whatever the person who made them drink it want them to do. Confusing?? 

Tinuviel of Ringzone: Thanks!! I never really was good at writing. English is like my worst subject. Lol, I don't think anybody likes Damean, including myself. And I created him!! That's extremely sad!!

Toby Keith Fanatic: I used to be a punk rock type of girl, but my friend made me listen to country nonstop when I was visiting her, and I fell in love with Toby Keith! He is so adorable! Lol. I hope you like the chapter!!

A/N: Just so y'all don't ask me later, I'll give you guys a hint now. Everything will get much, much worse, before they get better. And it might take a while for them to get better. Ta ta for now!!

__


	11. Illusions

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own anything that Tolkien created.

A/N: I am soooo sorry that this was updated like three weeks late!!! My teachers have been piling loads of homework on my agenda. I haven't had any time to think of my next idea let alone type it. I am actually supposed to be researching for my report due tomorrow, but I felt so guilty that I haven't updated so I decided to type this thing quick. 

My statement still stands: if I don't get at least 7 reviews, I'm going to have to stop my story from progressing. I don't want to be mean or threatening or anything, but those reviews are like a living water to me. I need them! So please, please, please review!! 

****

I also would like to know if you guys want slash or not. I know I've already hinted it here and there, but I need to make sure. I'll be counting the votes, or whatever you want to call it, and the majority will win. _If you do review, but don't specify, I will count it as a person who wants slash_. Is that ok with everyone??

A special thanks to my beta reader: Sirith. Thanks a lot!!!

Now, on with the chapter.

Legolas' breath quickened as he realized the situation he was in. Being buried alive wasn't the sort of predicament he wanted to find himself in. Legolas remembered the time he and Aragorn had been caught in a rockslide when they were traveling through the Misty Mountains together. The rocks had formed a large and impossibly strong wall that sealed up the opening of the cave they had made camp in. But to Legolas, this coffin was so much worse. At least in the cave it was cool and air would find its way through cracks in the boulders.

The wood allowed no oxygen in or out. The air quickly grew hot and stuffy, which resulted in the Elf's heavy breathing to become even heavier and more erratic. Sheets of cold perspiration broke out all over Legolas' body as he began to shiver. The sweat quickly soaked through the blooded robe he had on, making the wood underneath him feel sticky, yet slippery. Legolas knew he couldn't handle this much longer. Elves were naturally uncomfortable in dark, closed spaces, but he had freaked in the cave, and he could feel his panic rising a couple notches higher than it had ever been. Legolas soon grew desperate. He did the only thing he could do: the Elf swallowed his pride and began to call for help.

"Help!! Can anybody hear me? HELP!" Legolas pounded and scratched on the wood above, but to no avail. The wood was simply too rough and too thick. His fingernails and long since been scraped away and the skin had torn, leaving blood streaking down his long slender hands. "Help please, help me! I'll do anything" he said weakly. 

Legolas slowly lowered his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't cried since his mother had died, but know the floodgates of sorrow broke open in his mind and his eyes welled up with long forgotten tears of dreary memories. Everything seemed to slam into him with tripled force as he sobbed quietly. How could everything in his life be just another horrible memory? Legolas relived everything that had happened to him in vivid detail, but something was wrong with the way it happened. All the happy moments seemed to speed up so that they only lasted about half the time. All his sad memories seemed to slow down. Each time a new remembrance replaced another, a pounding in his head grew. Legolas lifted a hand to his head and rubbed it, willing the headache to go away.

That's when his heard it. Above him, he heard soft digging and loud voices. _Hurry up_ he thought_ please, just get me out of here. Ai Elbereth Gilthoniel, tua amin!_ [Elbereth, help me] As the digging grew louder, the headache grew fiercer. The pain shifted right in between his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut, wishing the pounding would stop. Then he fell into a world of darkness.

"Riders! Halt!"

The Mirkwood Army stopped for a fifteen-minute breather. They had been riding hard all night and well into the next morning. The hot late morning sun beat down upon the Elven Company, reflecting off the metal chain mail and other armor they carried, blinding them as they rode. The wind blew warm sand and dust across the desert. The particles were sucked into the immortals' mouths' as they breathed, and stuck to their throats, making them incredibly thirsty. But despite all the obstacles they had faced, including their emotionally unstable King, the Army was only about 17 leagues from the royal city.

They had already passed several minor cities and villages, but because they were in such a hurry, they did not attack. Instead they rode through in such haste the hooves of their horses kicked up a cloud of sand, shielding them from the villagers.

Now, Lumlier and Falacas and Mandolin sat with their King, trying to soothe him. He had nearly had a heart attack when the soldiers told him the horses needed to rest. All of them refused to go any further until their horses had had time regain their strength. Only an Elven horse would have enough stubbornness to keep going even thought they were past the stage of exhaustion.

"My liege, with all do respect, but this is folly! The Haradrim are leading us into a trap! Legolas is dead! To return home will be our best hope of surviving this rising threat," Mandolin said, trying to reason with the King.

"Mandolin, you may be my advisor, but that does not mean you rule my personal life!" Thranduil growled. "Get out of my sight before I ring your neck!" Mandolin looked sadly at the older Elf before walking away to get his horse ready.

Falacas sighed and rubbed his neck. "Your Majesty, I mean no disrespect for you or Prince Legolas, but Mandolin is right. We had little hope when we began this crusade. Now it is trickling away like your son's life. It will fade before we reach the palace. Your son has no hope and no chance of surviving.

"You know the Haradrim are cruel, very cruel. Gondor has had many wars with them. And each time the Haradrim return home with more prisoners than before. And each time, those innocent people die at their hands. My Lord, _Legolas is dead."_

Thranduil snapped his head up at those words. "Tell the Army we ride in two minutes. Anybody who is not ready, we leave behind."

" But my Lord—" said Lumlier.

"I said NOW!!" roared Thranduil, the vein in his temple pulsing dangerously fast. 

The Elven soldiers jumped to their feet and sounded the call. They knew their King was very close to chopping someone's head off to calm his own nerves. The Army was ready in less a minute. The immortals galloped toward the palace, their leader had a set face of extreme anger, hatred, and determination.

"Legolas, wake up. Come, my child, open your eyes," a voice said gently.

Legolas groaned. "Naneth?" [mother] "Is that you?"

"Yes, my dear greenleaf, 'tis I," the voice said again.

"Where am I? It's so dark," Legolas said.

"You are in your mind. You must open your eyes, or you shall be stuck like this forever. Your Father is coming to help you. You must open your eyes and fight the darkness closing over you." The voice continued to tell Legolas to open his eyes as it faded into the blackness.

Streams of pale light hit Legolas' bright blue orbs as he slowly opened them. A small yelp came from somewhere in the room as a large form hurtled toward him. The being enveloped him in the biggest hug imaginable. "I can't breathe," he gasped as the person hugged the Elf tighter.

"Oh, sorry!" The person pulled back so Legolas was able to see his face. To his surprise, it was Aragorn. His eyes were bright with unspilt tears. Love and warmth was all they held.

"Estel?" Legolas whispered, believing it might be another illusion like the voice of his deceased mother. "Is it truly you?

"Aye. I though you dead. It took about an hour for them to dig you out of the ground. I was so scared that I had lost you," Aragorn hugged Legolas again just to be sure he was alive.

__

But the potion makes him hideously mean. Why is he acting nice, like myfriend? Legolas thought. "Estel do you remember anything?

"No. Just that I woke up in here with a bloody gash over my eyebrow and you chained to the bed."

__

Chained? Thought Legolas. Then he tried to lift his hands. Just as Aragorn had said, he was indeed chained. "Estel, see if you can get these off me."

"Oh no, my sweet consort. Aragorn would never disobey his Prince." Aragorn turned away from Legolas as Damean walked in the room followed by six guards. They lined up against the wall as the Man walked forward. He lifted a finger to Legolas' face and traced the path his tears took when he had been buried.

"I didn't know I could make an Elf such as yourself cry like you did. You have a beautiful voice, especially when you're weak. I love you like that, Legolas," Damean said.

"How did you know I cried?" Legolas asked, almost fearful of the answer. Damean ran his forefinger down the Elf's slender neck to rest at the base of his neck. He lifted a small, bright green jewel that Legolas wore around his neck.

"This lovely device worked perfectly. An old wizard by the name of Gandalf magicked this necklace, so that I could here every sound you made through this trinket," he said while hold up his other hand to show Legolas an identical bracelet he wore. "Fortunately for you, only Aragorn and myself heard you weep."

At the sound of his name, Aragorn turned back and faced Legolas. The Elf once again felt the evil radiate from the Human; his gray eyes almost coal black with hatred and lust directed at Legolas. "You tricked me! I believed you, and you stabbedme in the back again!" Legolas gasped.

Aragorn smiled evilly, but did not respond to the outraged Elf. Instead he turned his attention back to Damean and said, "When you have defeated the Elves of Mirkwood, hurry up and break this one. I can't wait to try him out." With that said he bent down and kissed Legolas gently on the cheek.

A breathless squire ran in the room at that moment. "My Lord," he panted, while he bowed. "The Elves are coming. They are only five leagues from the palace."

"Thank you Geoffrey. Would you be so kind as to alert the Haradrim Army for me?" The boy nodded and left quickly to finish the task the Prince had given him.

Damean turned to the guards that had stood silently against the wall for the entire time. "Gather as many men that can be spared, and thrash this Elf within an inch of his life. Each of you will be highly rewarded if the job is well done." The head guard nodded, showing he understood. Damean and Aragorn strode out of the room as the men began to gladly administer the beating.

A/N: *yawn* Wow, that took me forever! Well, I hope all of you are happy with this chapter!! Oh and please make sure you tell me whether or not you want slash!!!!

Responses to Reviews: 

Black Hawk: Is that tense in a good way, or a bad way?? Lol, I hope you liked this chapter!

Lady Cassandra Skywalker: Yeah, I hate Damean too. But of course, nobody can resist an evil person picking on our pretty Elf. It's just way too much fun! Lol, I was thinking of Aragorn torture, but it really depends on who wins the battle, the Elves or the Haradrim. I don't decide that, my muse, JuicyJuice, does. So if you prefer one over the other, tell me in a review and I relay the message to my muse!!

Tamara: Lol, here's the next chapter! Hope you liked it!!

Sirith: I am SOOO sorry!!! I lost you e-mail address and I tried going to your author's page thingy, but my computer froze every time I did. Lol, so I guess you definitely want slash right???

Toby Keith Fanatic: Of course Kenny Chesney and Tim McGraw are WAY hotter than Toby, but he is still definitely in my top ten favorite!! I hope you liked this chapter!!

ElizabethBlack4: Omg, girl, calm down!!! He ain't dead yet. No worries!!! Lol.

MoroTheWolfGod: Here's more!!

Child_of_the_Stars1: I'm glad you liked it!!

Anonymous: I don't know if that was a flame, but I'll tell you right know, if you read the later chapters, I told everybody that I thought it would be in R, but for now it's PG13. It might go up, but because I'm not sure, I'm just gonna leave it how it is, ok??


	12. Rescued?

Disclaimer: Do you think I'd be here typing this if I owned them!?

A/N: Thanks to Sirith for beta reading!!

Thranduil rode through the lower palace gates, hacking at anybody wishing to oppose him. The women and children hiding in the shadows watched in awe at something so beautiful, yet so shaken with rage. The Elven King did not care who he killed, just as long as Legolas was still alive after this tremendous effort of trying to save him.

An ear-splitting scream rang through the still air as Thranduil rode closer to the royal palace. It was one of pure agony. If you had heard it with your own ears, you would have cringed from the mere sound of it. The hidden women and children began to cry out, thinking the end of the world had come. Falacas galloped up to his King when the scream ended. "My Lord, that was Legolas! We must hurry, ere the tide turns on us and it is too late!" he yelled through the haze.

Thranduil froze, unable to move as yet another scream tore through the air, followed by a faint rush of falling water that could only be heard by the Elves. The King walked his horse forward, staring ahead, not blinking, as if in a trance. The water grew louder and louder before it suddenly stopped. 

A burly man wearing the uniform of the Haradrim Night patrol strolled down the wide stone steps and stopped in front of the Thranduil's horse. "King Thranduil, I presume?" he asked formerly. The Elf nodded curtly. "Follow me, your Majesty. I will lead you to your son."

The King quickly dismounted and followed the man back up the stone stairs and through the halls of the palace of his enemy. The walls of the passages were intricately carved; some had wood and metal woven in and out of each other. But most were covered with tapestries and paintings of the previous kings and conquests. If Thranduil had been there for a friendly visit or maybe a vacation, he would have loved to sit down and read the history of these people. They once were a mighty nation before they fell to the Dark Side. Saruman most likely had poisoned their minds.

Now, as Thranduil and his three most trusted soldiers (Lumlier, Falacas, and Mandolin) were led deeper into the palace, the water they had heard before started up again. It seemed to come from everywhere: below them, above them, and every side. Falacas leaned closer to Mandolin and whispered, "Do you know where the water is coming from?"

"Va, mellon nin [no, my friend]" Mandolin answered. "But I have a foreboding feeling growing in the back of my mind, and I know not why."

"I think it is Legolas you are worried about," interjected Lumlier. "I have the same feeling, and I do not like it at all."

"This is it!" the man announced suddenly. The group of Elves stopped in front of a large wooden door at least four times their height. "Knock three times. The door will open. As soon as you enter, you will see red marks all over the ground. Follow those marks until they end. You will find what you are seeking." The human turned to the left and disappeared down the dark hall.

Thranduil slowly lifted his hand and knocked loudly three times on the door, just as the man had instructed. The door creaked and groaned while it opened, as if it had dirt and dust clogged up in the joints that held it up. The room looked nothing like Thranduil had ever seen before in a palace, especially in the desert. It was filled with tropical trees, plants and flowers. A small man-made creek ran beside the door, bubbling as it went over the stones. A soft, clear glow lit up the room. It was beautiful.

The image however was ruined when Thranduil looked down upon the ground. The red marks were there, but it was a liquid of some kind. The King knelt down as his soldiers looked in wonder at the scene before them. He ran a finger though the liquid; it was warm. With his panic rising, he brought his finger up to his nose and breathed in the smell of the fluid. It was blood.

"We must hurry," he whispered, but the Elves caught the panic and worry that flowed thick through his voice. The King stood and sprinted down the path that the blood marked out with his kindred close behind. 

"My lord, what was that red substance?" Lumlier asked.

"Blood; Elven blood," Thranduil replied. "I'll bet on my own grave it was Legolas that shed it."

He continued on going deeper into the "forest" when the marks suddenly stopped. The flow of water was at its loudest but still nothing could be found but trees. Thranduil frantically searched for any sign of where Legolas could be, but to no avail. He could feel his frustration rising, as his vision became foggy with tears.

"I am glad you could make it, King Thranduil," said a voice that was hidden in the shadows. "The party was about to begin and I didn't want to start without you."

The Elves looked about their surroundings, hoping to find the mystery voice. Fed up with all the guessing games he had had to endure, Thranduil finally said, "Show yourself!" Leaves rustled to his right and out of the shadows stepped Damean and Aragorn.

"Come with me," said Damean. "I believe your son is waiting for you." 

Thranduil, Lumlier, Mandolin, and Falacas followed the two humans though an impossibly dark tunnel trees and bushes. They emerged into a long stone hall fill with the Haradrim Army personal. In the middle was a huge empty stone basin; or so Thranduil thought.

Out of no where six guards wrapped the hands of the Elves behind their backs and bound them tightly with a surprisingly soft type of rope. 

Thranduil looked at Damean, astonished. "Release me!" he hissed. "Or I shall have your head!"

"Shame, shame, my dear King. 'Tis not very wise to threaten the capture of your son, now is it. Especially when the whelp is near death, thanks to a dozen of my most notable warriors." Damean grinned evilly at the wide-eyed Elf. 

The Sindar began to struggle anew but to no avail. He was already weak from worry and battle; the Humans behind him were only hindering his advancement. "Let me see my son!" the Elf commanded. When continued to grin and stare at him.

"You want to see him? Fine, I've no problem with that," Damean said. "But on one condition: absolutely no struggling no matter what you see or hear. Understood?"

The King hesitated, but nodded shortly in agreement. Damean motioned with his hand and the guards led the willing Elf to the edge of the basin. Thranduil could now see that it was actually filling up with water, but since it was so big, it was taking a while.

Suddenly, Thranduil looked upon the mangled form of his son in the middle of the pool. Legolas had been chained to a metal board of some kind. Blood from his wounds could clearly be seen dripping of his body and tainting the water below. The Kinglet out a horrified gasp. He never imagined it to be this bad. The worst of all was Legolas' eyes were closed; which could only mean one thing. "Va [no]!!" the Elf exclaimed

Breaking his word, the Elven King grappled with the guard to his left. He succeeded in breaking nose, but nothing more. Unfortunately, Damean took advantage of this slight detraction to secretly give the signal for a hidden archer to hit the bound Prince. If the Human had been aiming to prolong the agony of the poor Elf, then he had accomplished that, for the arrow embedded itself in the lower chest of the captive.

Thranduil heard the familiar twang of the bowstring and the arrow whistling through the air. But it did not effect him until he saw from the corner of his eye hit his son. 

"LEGOLAS!!" he screamed out in despair.

Legolas' blue eyes slowly opened as he moaned. His body hurt all over and he didn't know why. The last thing he could remember was getting an urgent letter from Aragorn, telling him to get to Gondor as quickly as possible.

A sweet, familiar voice screamed out his name, and everything came flooding back. He glanced at his surroundings and he suddenly knew he was going to die. No one would save him. Not even his father who was but ten feet from him. Legolas didn't know Death could be so unfair; he was within the reach of freedom and then it was snatched away.

The Prince was pulled out of his reverie as he heard his name again. He called out, hoping his Father would hear him.

"Ada? Tua amin, saes [Father? Help me, please]!" was the weak reply to Thranduil's booming voice. The King couldn't take it anymore; he had to help Legolas.

"Damean! Release him now! Please!" he pleaded with the human. Thranduil couldn't believe that he was actually begging to the filthy worm, but at this moment, he would walk to Mordor and back to save his son. 

Damean stood there with a large scowl on his face; he scratched his chin and pretended to be thinking. He held up his hands and acted out a weighing scale he used for gold. "Give up my favorite play toy," he said while lifted his left, "or keeping him and his father as slaves," he said while lifting his right hand. "I think the latter sounds more appealing to me."

At that moment, Legolas screamed with pure anguish laced within every fiber of his body. Thranduil winced. He glanced over the edge and saw the water spilling over his chest. The blood swirled with the liquid, dying it crimson. The Elven king lifted his nose to the air and breathed. Salt. The one thing that made wounds burn one hundred-fold and become infected ten times quicker. If Legolas weren't brought out soon, he would die from loss of blood.

Thranduil looked back at the patiently waiting Damean. "It is your choice Thranduil," the human said, grinning cruely at the Elven King. "Mirkwood and everything in itor your son?"

A/N: Ai!!! Don't hate me!! I just had to leave off there. I'll get the next chapter to you by the end of the month, if not sooner. I promise!!!!

As I told everybody before, I wanted to know if slash would be okay. I also said the majority of the votes (for or against slash) would win. The winner was yes to slash. But, because I feel really bad for the people who didn't want it, I'll try to make it as non-graphic and as not often as possible. Be warned: THERE WILL BE SLASH!!

Review it you have any questions, comment, criticism or flames.

Cheerio!!


	13. Til Death Do Us Part

Disclaimer: Haha!! That's a good one!! You actually thought I owned them!! Ha – yeah, right, in my bloody dreams, sure, why not?

A/N: So sorry its takin' me so long to update!! I had finals, and a bunch of way overdue papers I had to write. It took me so bloody long to get everything in for the semester grade. I hate school!! Hope y'all still are out there, and love this fic enough to review!! ::cough, cough – nudge, nudge:: Lol, you know you want to review. Its not that hard. Just push the pretty little button at the bottom. C'mon, please?!?!?!

Just so I sort of make everyone's good side on this fine day, I'm going to make the slash (for those who wanted it) as NON-GRAPHIC as possible (for those who didn't want it like they're still around.) If you guys were waiting for the most vile story you've ever read, full of gut wrenching torture and those really big crocodile tears well then you are definitely in the wrong place. Lol, sorry to dash all your wonderful hopes and dreams mate, but I suck at that kind of writing, to put it nicely. So if X-rated is what you wanted, then you'll have to rely on your good ole imagination to fill in the missing (but definitely juicy) parts!!

Sorry, no beta this time. I wanted to get this up tonight, so it'll prolly suck, but oh well! (I am REALLY sorry!! I'll give ya a giant cookie to make up for it!!)

10 reviews or more if you want the next chapter!!

On to the story

"W-what?" asked Thranduil, not sure if he had heard the human correctly.

"You heard me perfectly clear, _Elf_. Mirkwood and everything in it, or your son?" the evil Prince repeated. His grin widened as he could practically hear the Elven King thinking of his options. It was a lose-lose situation for him, so there really wasn't a preference in the Elf's best interest, but, of course, he had to choose. Would he sacrifice his son for his kingdom? Or would he put everything on the line, including his people, for the sake of his youngest son?

Legolas felt the life slowly slip from his body. He couldn't endure this for longer. The wounds inflicted on him from Damean's soldiers had definitely hurt, for it was mostly with either very sharp or very blunt objects that came into contact with him, but this waiting-to-die thing was absolutely unbearable. Knowing that you are going to die, and knowing that you are helpless to stop it, is one of the hardest things that can happen to a living creature – whether it be Elf, Man, Dwarf, or animal.

Thranduil looked over the edge of the basin again. The water was filling the stone tub faster than he had expected. The salty liquid, now completely covering Legolas' chest, legs, and bare feet, was creeping ever so menacingly up, starting to cover the back of his neck and ears. The salt, drawn to the open wounds, began to settle, making it even more painful for the golden-haired Prince.

Legolas moaned and struggled to keep his eyes in focus. He could just make out the blurry outline of his father's broad shoulders and gleaming blonde hair. Finding his voice and mustering enough strength, Legolas' called out. "Ada, saes, nor[Father, please,go]" the weak cry reverberated off the wall, because of the great silence, and mixing with the sound of the still running water.

Thranduil's eyes welled up with tears that refused to spill. He covered his face with his hands and turned away from his son with a heart-wrenching sob. "I – I can't!" he whispered despairingly.

The Human smiled again. "What? I couldn't quite catch what you said," although he knew perfectly well.

Mandolin cautiously went to the side of his King. "My Lord, what do you choose? Look at your son. Is that your final judgement?" The advisor kept close to Thranduil's side as he once again, looked over the pool's edge.

"Hurry up, Elf!" Damean shouted. "Make a decision quickly!"

Salty tears poured from the bloodshot azure eyes of the King. _What do I do? Ai Elbereth! Help me make the decision! Who do I give up? Legolas, or my people? If only my wife were here_

As if the Valar heard his cry and answered his silent prayer, a sudden vision that only Thranduil could see materialized in front of him: his beautiful, deceased wife in all her previous splendor. Thick golden hair cascaded around her head and shoulders. Bright emerald eyes sparkling with life and excitement. Legolas looked so much like her: the hair (minus the curly part), the eyes. Everything. Most people thought he looked nothing like his mother, for they only saw him with thin hair and blue eyes. But that only happened to Legolas when he was stressed out. Usually he was the spittin' image of the King's dead lover. –_It has been a long time, melethnin. _[my love] _What troubles you so?–_

Ai, bein-neth [beautiful oneI think]_, I've missed you so much! Why did you ever leave me? Do you any idea how hard it has been without you? I cannot stand another day, now that I have seen you. Take me away with you! Let me leave this wretched _

–Thranduil!! Stop it! Legolas needs your help! You know what I would do, as he was, is, and always will be my favorite child. Get him out of this place, Thranduil, and never let harm come his way again. Inye melme lla. – [I love you (its in Quenyan)]

"not got all day Elf! Just pick something!" Damean bellowed impatiently. "The whelp will not last much longer under these circumstances!"

Mandolin was whispering soothing words into his ear, telling him it would be all right. He was saying Legolas would forgive him if he chose Mirkwood. The kingdom was much more important; Legolas was beyond healing. He would never be like he was a few short weeks ago. Just choose Mirkwood and leave.

Thranduil, angry at the words, shrugged off the counselor and glared furiously. "Anno am, Thranduil, [Give up, Thranduil,]" said Mandolin audibly.

"No!" the King shouted. "Leave if you have to! I came here for my son and I refuse to leave without him!"

"The question has been answered!" Damean declared to all present. 

Unexpectedly, at that moment, Legolas yelled from the stone tub, "No, Ada, no! You mustn't! Reconsider, before it is too late! Ada, lea-" His sentence was cut short as a gurgling erupted from the basin: he had been completed engulfed in water.

The air bubbles slowly diminished as Thranduil watched, as if in a trance, Legolas struggle against his bonds. With his keen eye sight and acute hearing, Thranduil could see the horror from his decision and the pain from the old and new wounds being irritated with salt written all over the Princling's face. The King could hear Legolas struggle for breath as he still tried to shout at his father from under water. Legolas' efforts soon grew to be in vain. The chains refused to give and his air had finally run out. The bubbles stopped surfacing and the water settled innocently as though it did not hold Mirkwood's youngest prince.

Vaguely, he heard Damean shouting orders, yelling at his men to get Legolas out of deadly pool. The valves in which the water had been flowing through were closed off and small drains all around the bottom of the pool opened and allowed some of the water drain out.

Soldiers dived in and quickly released the restraining bonds and rolled Legolas onto his stomach, trying to get him to spit out the water he had inhaled and swallowed. Their efforts proved fruitless when the Elf failed to breathe in life again. A burly soldier swung the limp Prince over his shoulder and swam back to a small ladder, onto which he climbed out of the tub.

Thranduil, Falacas, Lumlier, and Mandolin were led away as soon as Legolas appeared over the edge. The King fought hard to get to the side of his son, but with many soldiers holding him back and with his hands still bound, he was defeated.

Those four Elves, and the rest of the Elven Army, never knew if Legolas had, by some miracle stayed alive, until early the next morning, when a Haradrim Healer woman came to the cell occupied by Thranduil with a grim face and heavy heart.

A/N: I am so sorry that Aragorn wasn't in this one! I promise he will be in the next one though, ok? Oh, I have another poll!!! Tell me in reviews if you want Aragorn to stay evil or transform back into his regular self again. Okay-dokey?!?!?! Laterz!

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	14. The Death of the King

Disclaimer: Don't own them. I wish I did, but I don't. So, yeah

A/N: Sorry it's taking so long!! I've been having A LOT of family problems right now. But you don't want to hear, so I won't tell.

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I don't know the language of the Haradrim people, or even if they have one that Tolkien invented. So for now, the language of the Haradrim will be French. Ok? If any of you speak fluent french and I did something wrong, I am so sorry. I'm learning, so I ain't that good.

Alright, there will probably be some slash in this chapter. Please don't run and hide!!!!! I promise, it'll be nothing more than a kiss here and a touch there. And I swear on my life it will not be a graphic touch!!!!!! (I'm not sure about the kiss though)

On with the story...

Thranduil stood up quickly, despite his screaming legs and back from being cramped in one spot for so long. "What is it? Is my son OK?" he asked, almost dreading the response he knew was coming. Nobody could have good news with the face that the Healer had.

"Milord, I do not know if your son shall live or pass. He is on the verge of dying, yet for some reason I know not, he clings by the barest thread to life," she said. "I have tried everything in my power to bring him back to the world of the living, but I have so far failed."

Thranduil**'**s face fell upon hearing the words. Sure, he was overjoyed that Legolas was not dead, but why won't he awaken? The King covered his face with his hands and vigorously rubbed his tired face with his dirt-and-blood stained hands. He waved his right hand slightly to let the Healer know he no longer wished for her presence.

"Actually, I have orders from milord, Prince Damean, to bring you to the healers' wing. He has hopes that you could somehow bring Legolas back into consciousness. If you'll follow me?"

As she exited a Sentry stepped in and held up chains. "For the safety of yourself and others around you," he explained. Thranduil snorted, but held up his hands anyway. "They will be on for only a short while." The sentry took his arm and led him out of the cell.

Thranduil was amazed at what he saw. The night before, it had been pitch dark and he could barely see his hand in front of his face, even with his elvish eyesight. But now, the sun was high in the sky— marking late after-noon— and lit up the dungeons. He had thought the stony prison had been several stories underground, but was mistaken when told it was only one. Of course, there were different levels to the dungeons; the first, which was what he was in, was for waiting for trials, and such. The second was for sentences that ranged from a day to a hundred years. And the third was for questioning and/or torture. Prisoners of war were usually kept on the first floor, but if they decided to be obdurate, they were sent to the second or third level**,** depending on how serious the stubbornness was. 

It appeared that the Haradrim obviously took great care of the prisons. They had clean floors, sullied by a few stains every so often that were most likely very recent. His cell, although extremely small, barely six paces in all directions, was clean. (Which was surprising— humans were always so dirty!) 

About ten feet from the stairs that led to the first floor, a tanned hand shot out from a cell. Thranduil looked for the body it belonged to, only to shrink away from disgust and rage. "Traitor!" he hissed.

Aragorn's soft silver eyes welled up with unshed tears. "Please forgive me. I knew not of what I was doing. I was being foolish." The Man's voice cracked as he tried to stop the silent sobs wracking his frame. "Please, please forgive me!" Aragorn whispered.

"I do not forgive traitors!" came the venomous reply.

Aragorn pressed his forehead against the cold, iron bars of his cell and watched the retreating backs of the elf and the sentry. He sighed and crawled to the darkest corner of his prison. _Damn you, Damean. Why won't anybody believe me when I apologize? First Legolas, now Thranduil. Arwen shall be next, if she is even here. Ai, what shall I do?_

Aragorn was left with his depressing thoughts as Thranduil met with his unconscious son.

The Sentry opened the large, heavy wooden door that led to the outer chamber of the patients' sick ward. He let the Healer enter first then he took Thranduil's arm again and followed two paces behind the woman. 

She led the males to the corner of the sick ward and pulled back a large, white curtain that hung from the ceiling. Behind it lay Mirkwood's youngest, and most cherished, prince.

To the Elven-King, Legolas looked even worse than he had in the water. Angry red welts covered every inch of his bare torso; large black, blue, and purple bruises marred the once creamy-white skin, which was even paler than normal.

What was once a brilliant golden color, Legolas' hair lay limp and dirty, slightly splayed out on the pillow.

Gauze was wrapped around his left wrist, which was obviously broken. But, to Thranduil, the worst thing was Legolas' eyes. They weren't open, as is the custom of the Elves. Closed eyes could only mean two things: one, he would never wake up and succumb to death, or two, he was in a healing sleep. But supported by the fact of his irregular breathing, Thranduil was forced to choose the former over the latter.

"He has two broken, and three fractured ribs. I need him awake so I can bind them up properly. The left wrist is broken, also, but should heal in no time. The right shoulder is dislocated; I need him awake for that, too, so I can relocate it back to its original position properly. Above all of the welts and bruises, he is fine. I just can't wake him up," said the woman despairingly.

Thranduil tore his eyes away from the pitiful site that was Legolas, and looked at the women. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Liana, Milord," she replied.

"Lady Liana, is there any way I can help you help my son?"

Damean sat in his father's private study, waiting for the King to enter. He idly tapped his fingers on the side of the intricately carved wooden chair and raised his feet to rest on the desk before him. 

A moment later, King Quasir entered, his usually calm gait quickened with livid rage. "I said subdue him!! Not beat the living crap out of him!!" he screamed, spraying spit everywhere. "Thanks to your ignorance, the elf will die, unless his father can coax him awake. I have nothing to bargain with, now. The remaining Elves of Mirkwood will not come if the Prince is dead." He rubbed his temples in hopelessness, trying in vain to think of something to do.

"Father, you will hurt yourself if you don't sit down," said Damean wisely. He ushered his father to the large throne-like chair behind the desk. Behind him he pushed open the large window to let some cool early-evening air into the room.

He stepped to the rear of the seat and gently pushed his father's head forward, exposing his neck. "Let me rub away the tension, Father. You are weary and do not know what you are saying. Relax," Damean whispered in the King's ear.

Quasir sighed contentedly as his son massaged his neck, letting go of all the stress, settling in complete bliss. "You are worried, yes?" the Haradrim Prince asked. Quasir grunted to say 'yes'. "Good. I shall get rid of the worries and the stress," said Damean.

Suddenly, the Human violently pushed into the King's major arteries in his neck, cutting off his air supply to his brain. Quasir struggled for a moment, but quickly slumped forward in death.

Damean patted his dead father's shoulder and whispered, "Regard, Papa, la douleur est disparaitre. J'aux prendre est fardeau de souverain de vous. (Look, dad, the pain's disappeared. I shall take the burden of ruler from you.)" He smiled and walked out of the study, heading for the guardhouse.

Haradrim soldiers sat all around the room, laughing, drinking, and smoking. The smell of the weed lingered everywhere, filling every corner with its fragrance; the room itself was filled to the brink with smoke.

Slave women served the men beer, every now and again bending over and teasing the men with their bodies. Drunk as they were, the men never noticed their prince enter and shove his way through the room to a back corner where a door was. A plaque on the door said 'Captain'.

Damean pounded on the door; when he received no answer he kicked it opened to fetch the Captain.

"Locksley! Allez! Vite! (Come on! Quick!)" He yelled over the laughing and cheering of the soldiers outside.

Captain Locksley looked up from a slave woman he had pressed against the wall while kissing her, and growled. "What?" he said slipping into the Common Tongue. Locksley was the only man who could get away with being rude to the prince. "Can't you see I'm a little busy?" He stroked the side of the woman's face with his left hand while she sucked a finger on the right.

"I think something has happened to my father! Hurry!" Damean beckoned, his eyes filled with fear.

Locksley sighed and gave the woman a quick kiss. "Stay here," he commanded and followed Damean out.

"Damean, I swear, if this is just another one of your sorry excuses for a prank, you need to tell me now. I got a woman waiting for _me_ and handfuls of men waiting for _her_."

"Look, Locksley, I'm telling you, I think something has happened to my father! You know how he's always complaining it's cold even though it could be a hundred degrees outside? Well when I went to his study for the talk he wanted to have with me, it was chilly. _Chilly!! _And the bloody door was locked! Why summon me if he were going to keep me outside?!"

Locksley chuckled. Sometimes the kid's imagination went a little too far. He may only be 20, but he had the biggest pessimistic thoughts Locksley had ever heard. "Calm down, man. Maybe their Majesties were just a little too busy for you," Locksley suggested with a smirk.

Damean caught the sarcasm in the Captain's voice and punched him soundly on the arm. Barely feeling the blow, Locksley continued walking as if nothing had happened.

When they had reached private study, the Captain pounded on the door and shouted. When he did not receive an answer, he took the keys from his belt and opened the door. He swept the room with his eyes as Damean rushed forward to the desk he had previously been sitting in front of.

"Locksley! Quick! Summon a healer! He is not breathing!" Damean cradled his father's body in his arms as the Captain stood dumbfounded. How could Damean have known about this?

"How did you know?" Locksley asked accusingly.

It was Damean's turn to be dumbfounded. "Are you _accusing _me of killing my own father?!" Tears of what the Captain thought was pain and anger coursed down the handsome Haradrim's darkly tanned cheeks. How could he have made such an assumption? The King and the Prince were always at odds, but not enough hate passed between them to provoke Damean to murder his own sire.

"Of course not! My Lord, I was not implying anything against you! Forgive me!" Before he stuck his foot in it any further, Locksley took off to the Healing House.

The door to the healers' wing burst opened and banged against the wall as a wide-eyed man ran to the corner where the white curtain was. "Liana, hurry! The King... I ... we fear him dead. Please come!" 

She excused herself and sprinted to the King's chambers. The man sagged against the bed in which Legolas lay. Another Elf, older no doubt, but still looked young, held the Prince's right hand to his lips and did not let go.

"Who are you?" the older Elf whispered hoarsely to the man.

"They call me Captain Locksley. Who are you?"

"Thranduil of Mirkwood. I am Legolas' father."

A heavy silence enveloped the room when suddenly Locksley heard strange, but somehow beautiful words coming from Thranduil. He covered his face with his hands and listened.

"Legolas, telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad." (Legolas, I have come to help you. Listen to my voice, come back to the light. [or something like that!]) Thranduil repeated this a few times, once in a while adding something in.

"Tolo, pen-neth. Tolo dan na ngalad." (Come, young one. Come back to the light. [I think...])

Legolas slowly opened his eyes and blinked and few times before taking in his surroundings. Everything was white. He remembered when he first arrived at the palace, everything was gold; now it was white. Was he floating in the clouds? Was he in the Halls of Mandos?

__

No, Legolas mentally told himself, _I'm in too much pain to be dead._ He slowly turned his head to see a figure whose head was bowed and was holding his hand. Legolas slowly raised his left hand and placed it lightly on the figure's shoulder.

"Ada?" he whispered hopefully. Thranduil raised his head and stared at his son.

"You— you're alive!" he exclaimed.

"Well, I'm not dead, silly," he replied sarcastically. Thranduil laughed as tears of joy ran down his cheeks. "If I wasn't felling sorry for you, I'd've killed you already! Don't youever scare me like that again, ok?"

"Mm. Ada who is that?" Legolas nodded his head weakly to a man sit at the foot of the bed he was lying in. His shoulders were shaking slightly and soft sobs could be heard for those who listened.

"May I present Captain Locksley, of the Haradrim Guard?" said Thranduil formally, as if this were another court function.

The man wiped his face to clear the tears and turned to face the Prince. "Pleased to meet you," he said equally formally.

Legolas gasped and shrunk against the bed in horror. He clung to his father's hand in a bone-crushing grip and uttered a strangled cry. "You!"

A few tears leaked out of the corner of Losksley's eye. "Aye, 'tis me, Your Highness."

"Legolas, what is going on? Have you met this man?" asked Thranduil quietly. 

"Aye, Ada, ta inye garo." (Yes, Father, that I have. [I got this off of a translation site, so I don't know if they are right. It's a mix of Quenyan and Sindarin. Sorry! That's all I could find!])

"How? When?" came the inquiry.

"Never mind," interjected Captain Locksley. "Elf, it is time for you to be put back in your cell. Prince Damean will not want to have one of his slaves wreaking havoc all over the place. Come." Locksley held out his hand as Legolas looked between the two males, horrified.

"What is he talking about, Ada? Whose slave?" Thranduil looked helplessly at his son as he allowed himself to be led away.

"I shall explain another day, my son," said Thranduil. "Rest. You need your strength."

Damean sat on the edge of the private balcony, staring off into space, wondering about the death of his Father that had occurred the day before. He hoped he had cried enough to make his fake shock and pain believable. The funeral would be in a few short hours.

Damean's coronation to becoming King would come in two weeks. The royal advisers needed time to prepare for the massive celebration: clothes needed to be sown, people needed to be invited, and Gondor would officially become Harad territory.

The topic of Damean's thoughts shifted from the Gondorian kingdom to an image of its previous King. The idiot would be rotting in jail for the rest of his miserable life, thinking of everything he had lost. His kingdom, his wife, most certainly his freedom — but the thing that Damean thought hit Aragorn to his very core was Legolas. Aragorn had lost his best friend. Most likely his only true best friend he had ever had.

Sure the ranger had a lot of friends, but none proved more loyal than the golden-haired Elf. But now he was gone forever. Betrayal was something a proud Prince like Legolas would not stand for, Damean knew. He just hoped the Elf wouldn't waste away into nothingness because of the slavery he was now being forced into. 

Legolas hissed in pain as Liana wrapped yards of white cloth around his midsection to protect and help heal his broken ribs. He never got used to having his ribs bound up; Lord Elrond had done it so many times he had lost count. Every time he and Aragorn went on a trip of any sort, Legolas always came back with something bloodied, bruised, or broken. He inwardly smiled at the happy memories.

Damean stepped lightly in view of the private cubicle and cleared his throat loud enough for Liana to hear. She looked and smiled slightly.

"Good morning, My Lord!" she said cheerfully. "How are you today?"

"As fine as I can be on a day like this," he replied formally. "How is our little patient?"

Legolas wrinkled his nose at the hated nickname and scowled. "Oh, he's fine. If you have a moment to spare, could you please hold down his left shoulder? Be mindful of his ribs."

Damean happily obliged. He massaged Legolas neck with gentle circular motions. Even though he hated having the Human's hands on him, he could help but relax under the soothing ministrations.

"What are you going to do?" Legolas asked somewhat sleepily.

"I need to relocate your shoulder," Liana said calmly. Legolas immediately tensed up. He knew this would hurt. Damean softly kissed the Elf on the cheek in hopes of calming him. It only resulted in making Legolas more nervous, which caused his muscles to seize up, making it harder for Liana to relocate his shoulder.

With a loud _pop!_ the shoulder was back in place. Legolas groaned at the onslaught of fresh pain washing over his upper body. He never got used to having his arm popped back into place either.

Damean kissed Legolas again, but this time on the lips. Taken by surprise, Legolas gasped, allowing Damean's tongue entrance.

Revolted, Legolas moved his head to the side quickly and broke the kiss. Anger flared in Damean's chest and he brought back a to slap the Elf. Legolas flinched and clenched his eyes shut, readying himself for the blow. It never came.

He slowly peeked at the Human and relaxed a bit. Damean had lowered his hand and was staring at the Elf. "I am sorry, amour (love). You are still healing. I should not have tried to do that while you are in this state."

The Human stood up and looked at the Healer. "Is he well enough to go to the burial ceremony?"

"Yes," answered Liana. "Just make sure he is able to sit, or at least lean against something. He is still weak."

"Bon (Good)! I shall send someone with proper attire, and make sure he gets a bath!" Damean strode out of sight leaving a very confused Legolas.

A/N: That's it for now folks. I hope you guys didn't mind the French. Tell me if you have a problem with it in a review.

Aragorn is back to normal! He will be at the funeral. I was gonna make this like three times the size it is now, but my hands are cramping, so the next chapter should be a about the same length as this one. 

Responses to Reviews:

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Kenobisaqt: No worries! Legolas just has a few bumps and bruises. He'll live as long as I play with him...

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LegolasLover: Love your name!! Aragorn is back!! Should I have him save the day?

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Legolas19: I don't like a mean Aragorn either, but I had to put it in to make the perfect (well almost perfect) twist to the story. Anyway, he's back to normal; for now, at least.

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Riva van Dyk: Sorry, it was the only thing I could come up with at the time, and I really wanted to get it posted as soon as possible. Thanks for the review!

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Toby Keith Fanatic: Um... I didn't mean for the confusion. Legolas isn't dead yet. I could make him commit suicide, or fade away from grief or whatever, but if that even happens, it will take at least 2-3 more chapters. Sorry, for the misunderstanding!!

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Elessar*Lover: Lol, at least I know I'm loved and hated. J/K. I love Aragorn too, though probably not as much as you. But he is BACK!! Dun, dun, dun... *dramatic music* 

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Rachel13: Well, I'm glad you love my story enough to eat it! I didn't make the b-ball team either... or, as a matter of fact, I didn't make the volley ball team... or the football team... BUT I did make the hockey team. That was pretty fun. No worries!

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Elenillor: You know, you make a good point: I never said Thranduil would get Legolas back. That just gave me an idea!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!

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Rivera: I'm really sorry about the lack of updates and the short chapters. I hope this one is long enough!

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Wilwarin: Thanks so much!! All my Elvish is from translation sites, but even those aren't as accurate as a person who's learned it.

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Aranel or Mirkwood: There will a wee bit of slash, but not enough to completely gross anybody out. I promise!!

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Mellaithwen-Elvenmaiden: OMG, that it THE longest name ever. How do pronounce it?!?! Aragorn is back!! No worries!

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Little ME: I'm glad I made you happy! Enjoy the chapter!!

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Bookworm: Thanks for the review. And don't worry, Aragorn is back to normal!!

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Elven—Star—of—Gold: I would kill Aragorn off, but I think everybody would end up going at me with pitchforks in their hands, so I don't I will for a while. And, don't worry, Leggy isn't dead. I couldn't bare to kill him!! My plot's good? I would say it sucks. 


	15. Crowned

Disclaimer: Don't own...

A/N: Hey guys!! I am sooooooooooo sorry I didn't have this up earlier!! I was really busy, and then, when I did manage to write it and send it to my beta, she was really busy, too! So, yeah, the next chaper will be longer and will be up before the end of June, I promise!! My apologies for the wait.

A HUGE thanks to my beta: Sirith. Without her, I'd be hopelessly lost, and my story wouldn't be worth beans. Not tthat it is now or anything...

12 reviews or you guys won't see the next chapter!

(I won't be doing responses to reviews this time! Sorry!)

"What funeral? What is he talking about?" Legolas asked.

"The King of Harad passed away yesterday. They are burying him today," Liana explained. She continued her survey of checking Legolas' wounds over as if the royal death was nothing out of the ordinary.

"But... but who is the new king?" Legolas questioned. He prayed to the Valar that the answer wasn't Damean.

"The coronation for the new king is in two weeks. Naturally, it is for the only heir to the throne: Prince Damean," she replied in a voice that reminded Legolas of an adult speaking to a young naive child.

"But... how?" the Elf sputtered out, shocked and dismayed by the news. Liana opened her mouth to say something, but decided it would be best to keep quiet. Her expression was cross yet sad and full of pity.

Just then a serving maid walked timidly into the private bed area. She set a pair of clothes on a nearby chair and scurried out fearfully. Liana sighed and pulled the bed covers back, exposing Legolas down to his calves. He grabbed for the sheets, but the healer quickly threw a towel at him.

"Wrap that around yourself. We must go to the bathing area."

Legolas did as he was told and followed her through the halls of his future home, wincing with every step he took.

The funeral was beautiful, even though Legolas was grudgingly forced to lean on Damean for support. The entire kingdom had been present, all sporting the formal black attire.

Afterwards, Damean sent Legolas up to his room with an escort, giving the elf specific orders to rest. Although he loathed admitting it, Legolas was grateful for the reprieve and happily obliged.

Meanwhile, all of the elves that had accompanied Thranduil on his quest to Harad sat unhappily in cells, thinking of all they had lost. They had been given a speech from the Captain of the Haradrim Army that they were now possessions of Damean, or in other words, slaves.

No one was happy about the situation, but nothing could be done about it.

(Two weeks later. The day of the coronation.)

Legolas woke to the feeling of feathery kisses being applied up and down his cheek and neck. He leaned into the warm embrace, thinking it was his beautiful lover back home. He opened his eyes to meet what he hoped were his lover's green orbs, but was met with brown.

The elf shrieked slightly and slid back until his back hit the headboard. Damean growled and pulled him closer, giving him a full kiss on the mouth. When Legolas didn't respond, the human sighed and broke the kiss. Legolas looked at him with huge, begging blue eyes that pleaded for him not to punish him. Damean could do nothing but laugh and give in.

"I swear, you could get anything you wanted from me with those big beautiful blues. Come, my love, it is 10 o'clock. We must get ready for the coronation," Damean said in his rumbling voice. Legolas wrinkled his nose at the fact of having to actually dress up for such an event, but got up all the same.

Three hours later, Legolas looked at himself in the long mirror. He was fully healed and looked completely normal, although his eyes still shone blue and his hair was still thinner than normal.

His blonde locks had been braided in handfuls of little braids randomly around his head. A beautiful mithril circlet was grandly placed on the crown of head, where it twinkled and sparkled in the sunlight. He wore a high collared silver tunic with silvery-blue stitching over pale blue leggings and a silver shirt. The tailor thought it accented his fluffy golden hair perfectly, but the elf wished more than anything his could just wear his regular green and brown garb and ride off into the sunset, away from this nightmare that he was stuck in.

Servants twittered about nervously as Legolas sat in a comfy purple chair, lost in his thoughts. He mulled over the concepts of freedom and slavery, of friendship and betrayal. As his mind turned to the deception of the former King of Gondor, Legolas had a sudden, violent urge to run down and hug his old friend.

Ignoring the protests and warnings of the servants and tailors, the Elf followed his urges and walked quickly, but gracefully, to the dark dungeons below. Aragorn, he found, was pacing his cell like a trapped lion. Not realizing Legolas was in front of him, Aragorn continued his ranting under his breath in Elvish.

Legolas smiled. He had lost count of how many times he had seen the Ranger pacing and cursing. The elf silently signaled for a guard to unlock the cell door. Aragorn looked up, fire in his eyes, his body positioning itself in a defensive stance.

"Peace, Estel," Legolas said. "I would dearly love to have a practice skirmish, but with these clothes," Legolas rose an eyebrow and smirked, "I don't think so. Plus Damean would kill me."

Aragorn's eyes darkened with hate at the mention of the Haradrim's name. "I will kill him myself," the Ranger growled.

"Peace, Estel," Legolas repeated. "The last thing I need is for my best friend to be killed." Aragorn's eyes shone with unshed tears that threatened to spill over any moment.

"Do you forgive me, Legolas?" he whispered. "Please say you forgive me."

"Ú-moe edhored, mellon nin [There is nothing to forgive, my friend]," Legolas said with a wide smile. They embraced happily.

"What of Mirkwood?" Aragorn asked. He had collected enough information from the guards and other prisoners that Thranduil had given up claims on his realm and was now a slave, as was Legolas.

"We leave in a week to deal with it," Legolas murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I fear my family and Lithuial shall die." {A/N: Ok, just so everyone is clear: Legolas has a lover in Mirkwood, her name is Lithuial. I'll probably get rid of her though. Pronunciation: Lith-oo-ee-ul}

"Don't talk like that. You and your people shall prevail. I promise it." Aragorn kissed Legolas gently on his brow. "Go, before that monster notices you are gone."

"Oh, he is too busy making sure everything's perfect for his coronation and such. He is so vain. I can't imagine anyone loving him."

The two shared a short laugh before the elf became serious again, "Do you know which cell my father is in? I must speak with him."

Aragorn pointed down the hall, and watched his friend depart quickly and noiselessly, as was the way of the elves.

__

(In Thranduil's cell)

"Why'd you do it, Ada? Why?" Legolas pleaded with his father. He knelt and took hold his father's hands, hoping it might change the fact that they were now slaves. Legolas dreamed beyond anything they could just walk out.

Thranduil's hands were bound in heavy chains that were attached to a metal ring embedded in the stone on the ground. Try as he might, the King of Mirkwood could not pull himself free.

"I could not stand there and see you suffer without doing a thing about it." Seeing Legolas' doubts show clearly on his face, Thranduil tried a different approach. "Your mother told me to do what I had to do to save you from dying."

"Nana?" the young elf breathed. "When?"

"In the room with the basin. She came to me in a vision and told me you were, are, and always will be her favorite son. She told me to save you, and that's what I did."

"You didn't save me! I'm forever bound to that monster! He can do what he likes with me; I no longer have asay over my body! I'm damned for the rest of my life!" Legolas huffed then turned to exit, but before he did, the elf looked at his father one last time. "We leave in a week for Mirkwood. Be ready."

Everyone was stressed out and flushed as the time drew nearer for the start of the coronation. Deciding he wanted to break tradition, Damean ordered the celebration to be at five in the evening, instead of at noon. He thought it would let people get more situated and he would be able to add last minute touches to his wardrobe.

The tailors had spent two weeks on his coronation outfit. The softest of silk, which was cream colored, lined the inside of the fluffiest velvet robe, which was a rich royal blue. The robe was outlined with silver trim and various light-colored jewels had been sown in to give the robe a more dazzling look.

Damean also wore a cream colored shirt of the softest cotton ever woven by his tailors, and a pair of leggings that matched his robe. Brown boots of deerskin adorned his feet. His hair was nothing out of the ordinary, just a bit more shiny and fluffy than usual. On a silver chain hung a sapphire jewel a little smaller than a chicken egg. He rubbed a sweet-smelling perfume all over his clothes and massaged it into his skin as a final touch.

Glancing in the mirror, Damean flashed a white smile at his reflection before he headed to Legolas' rooms for a talk.

The clock struck 4 as Damean knocked on the door to Legolas' rooms. The elf opened it out of politeness only, wishing he had nothing more to do with the disgusting creature that enslaved him.

"Legolas," Damean said as he settled into a chair, "we need to talk."

"I know you do not want to be pushed into a relationship with me, so I am willing to reach an agreement with you. Are you inclined to do so?"

Legolas nodded, but showed nothing of his utter surprise. "First of all, when you disobey me, I will punish you as I see fit," began Damean. "Second, when I kiss you, I want a response. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but may I say something?" he asked. When the human did nothing to stop him, Legolas continued. "I know what you expect of me as your — consort, but I cannot do unless I am in love with you."

"And you aren't?" asked the Haradrim, knowing well what the answer was.

"No, I'm not," Legolas answered frankly. "But if you don't force me into a bond of any kind, I can learn in time. I don't wish to be unhappy for the rest of my life."

"I do not wish for you to be unhappy either," Damean replied. He thought for a long moment before looking back at the elf. "It shall not go beyond kissing. I await your orders of when you are ready." The future king stood and stretched

A smile of happiness and relief burst on Legolas' face and he jumped up and hugged Damean. "I think I might like living here," he whispered in the human's ear. Damean kissed him simply on the lips then released him. "Come," he said. "They are to crown me in less than an hour, and I am not ready!" Legolas chuckled and opened the door. _Maybe, just maybe, he's not that bad**,**_ he thought.

Musicians picked up a lively tune as Damean walked down the isle to the front of the great throne room with Legolas at his side. He stood before the entire kingdom, allowing them to witness the most important day of his life. A priest chanted in a foreign language and sprinkled sweet-smelling oil all over the king-to-be's clothes and hair.

Damean's eyes drooped as if in a trance as he sunk into the serenity of the moment. "Prince Damean of the Haradrim population," rasped the priest in his dry voice. "Do you swear to protect and honor your subjects, putting their life and well-being before your own? Do you swear to always judge fairly and never let your subjects fight amongst themselves? Do you swear you loyalty to the Crown and all it represents?"

Damean licked his parched lips and answered, "I swear to everything upon my life."

"Kneel," the priest commanded. "I pronounce you, Damean, son of Quasir and Charlotte, King of the Realm of Harad!" The old man placed a beautifully crafted mithril crown atop the new King's head and bowed.

The crowd cheered and threw confetti up in the air as Damean rose, a huge smile adorning his handsome face. "Let us eat!" he cried to his subjects. They allowed their King to go first with his consort before the nobles eagerly followed. According to Haradrim law, commoners were not permitted at feasts.

The moment Legolas entered the dining hall, he wished he hadn't. What he saw before his eyes made him sick to his stomach. The captive elves stood along the walls, wearing nothing but crude, brown leggings. Iron chains were clamped to their bare feet, hampering their graceful gaits.

Among the elves were Legolas' father, Lumlier, Falacas, and Mandolin. Legolas had known them since his birth, and seeing them as they were brought tears to his blue eyes. "Damean. Is this really necessary?" he whispered as the King took his seat.

"Yes, Legolas. They need to learn their place, as you are learning yours. No, don't frown at me. Stand to the left of my chair."

"Let the feast begin!" the King declared once everyone had been seated. The elves surged forward with burning plates of delicious food. Legolas glared at the nobles as the night wore on. They were becoming too bold; at least one out of every three men attempted to grope the elf serving them wine.

"Here," Damean muttered, thrusting a roll into his elf's hands. "You must be hungry."

"Do my people get to eat?" Legolas questioned seethingly.

"If there is left overs. But I doubt it. These nobles eat like pigs when drunk," Damean commented with a chuckle.

Legolas tossed the rolled back to his master's plate. "I will not eat until my people are well fed," he said, his voice quiet and dangerous.

Damean looked from the bread roll to the elf with mounting rage. "Are you defying me, slave?"

"I am not your slave, Damean," Legolas snapped letting his anger and worry for the elves get the better of him. The King stood quickly and faced his elf.

"From this point forward you are to call me 'master' and are not to speak unless spoken to. Is that clear, slave?"

"I refuse to call you anything except monster!" Legolas exclaimed. Damean's face turned beet red, due to rage or the large amount of liquor coursing through his blood, Legolas knew not.

All of the elves heard the crack of hand against face over the loud, boisterous noise of the men and their ladies. They directed their defiant, angry gazes to the High Table where the King ate his meal. They all saw their precious prince fly to the ground as Damean struck him.

Falacas put a restraining hand on the fuming Elf-King's shoulder. Thranduil's white-knuckled hands gripped the wine bottle so hard he was sure it would shatter. "Calm yourself, my King. You can do nothing," Falacas advised even though he wished nothing more than to rush to his fallen captain's side.

Legolas picked himself up of the ground and wiped he blood from his split lip. His icy gaze held all the fury and hate of the world, and directed it all at Damean. The King suddenly realized he had lost the hopeful elf from before his coronation.

He reached up and touched the wound he had inflicted. Legolas flinched and batted the hand away not caring that he would probably be punished for it. Damean withdrew his hand and sighed. "I am sorry, Legolas but you knew it had to be done. I won't tolerate you defiance anymore. Next time it will not be you, but your father, or one of your despicable kin. Is that clear?"

Legolas nodded slowly. Damean pulled him into a tight hug. "Good boy. Now, eat this roll." He handed the bread back to the elf and sat down.

Legolas picked at the bread as he stared at the night sky. How he wished he could ride away and be free forever! Thranduil got the wistful look in his son's eyes and his heart broke. Wasn't he supposed to be the one to protect the young elf from the evil of the world? Why, when his child needed him most, was he helpless?

A/N: So what'd you think? Pusht hat little review button and tell me all your thoughts!


	16. Preparation

Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue!

A/N: Hey guys! This update actually came a little sooner than I expected, but yeah. So... there is A LOT of Legolas angst. Please DO NOT flame me if he is totally out of character. He's like having a mental breakdown, but don't worry: he'll be A LOT more defiant in the chapters to come.

I'm going on vacation for a couple of months, so don't expect an update. I'm not sure if they'll have computers where I'm going so if I get one up, good, but if I don't, you can't say I didn't warn you!!

I also have no beta for this chapter. Like I said I'm going on a vacation, but I didn't want to pressure her into doing the chapter when she doesn't have the time. But I'd like to thank her anyway! A big round of applause for Sirith!!

Oh, before I forget, whatever is in between these ... is SLASH!!! WATCH OUT!!

12 reviews or no chapter!!

On to the story...

Damean stood and suggested his subjects stand with him so he may bid them farewell. The feast was finally over. Legolas had breathed a sigh of relief and edged over to his father as soon as Damean was preoccupied enough with seeing off his guests to not notice his Elf.

"Are you all right?" the two Elves asked at the same time. Thranduil smiled and stroked Legolas' cheek in a loving, fatherly way.

"I saw those filthy human nobles touching you," Legolas said hurriedly. "I hope they didn't do anything to offend you." Thranduil shook his head and smiled at his youngest son. Oh, how he looked like his mother at times like these!

"I saw that monster strike you," Thranduil stated in a worried tone. "Did he hurt you terribly?"

Legolas reached up and touched his split lip. It didn't hurt him now. "It does not pain me, Ada," Legolas said. "It was a bad mistake on Damean's part and I will forgive him."

"What?!" the Elven-king whispered angrily. "How can you even stand to be in his presence for as long as you have? I would have gone mad by now!"

"Ah, but that is the thing, Ada. You never did have patience for human error," Legolas said with a grin. "I have known Aragorn for far too long _not_ to be able to forgive Damean. It is just too hard. Plus, it's for yours and my people's sake."

"What do you mean, ion nin [my son]?" asked Thranduil, his brow furrowed concern and confusion.

Legolas mentally kicked himself for letting _that_ bit of information slip from his lips. He sighed and answered, "Damean will punish everyone but me if I make a mistake. I could never live with myself if he killed you, or Falacas, or Lumlier or anyone else I know and love. I would surely fade from the grief."

"Legolas..." Thranduil began but trailed off as he saw Damean approaching. He pulled his son into a brief hug and whispered, "Le melon." [I love you. A/N: That is correct, but if you guys want it broken down it's: Im meleth le.]

"Legolas!" Damean barked. "Come here!"

The Elf-prince looked at his father with longing-filled eyes but moved reluctantly to his master's side. Damean's arm snaked around the elf's waist, ensuring his hold on him.

"Well, what are you elves staring at?" Damean demanded. "Clean up this mess!"

Legolas moved forward to help his kin, but the King held him back. "What are you doing?" he cried. "I want to help my people!"

"Legolas, did I _say_ you could speak?" Damean asked, his voice sticky sweet.

"No," whispered Legolas. Damean slapped the elf and brought his face so close their noses almost touched.

"Are you forgetting our most recent lesson?" he inquired, his eyes narrowing. Legolas turned his head away from his overlord's putrid smelling breath. He had had way too much to drink. "No _what_?"

"No, master," Legolas murmured.

"Good boy. Now run along to my rooms. I'll be there momentarily," ordered the human. Legolas dropped his eyes and shuffled from the dining hall. Damean followed after a few moments of surveying his new slaves at work.

Thranduil watched as the door finally closed, leaving the elves alone. He sagged into a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands. Mandolin watched as his King's bare shoulders shook, and knew he must have great sorrow: it took a lot to make the seemingly unemotional elf cry.

Lumlier knelt and took his Lord's hand. "My liege, maybe we could ask the human for occasional visits with my Prince."

"No," Thranduil replied softly. "Legolas was right. Why didn't I listen to him?!"

"Majesty, calm down. What did Legolas say?" Lumlier asked in a coaxing voice.

"He said I have sent my people to their certain death and I have damned him to an eternal hell." Thranduil looked at his friend with tears in his eyes. "I'm a horrible ruler and well as a father, aren't I?"

Legolas stood inside the room uncertain of what to do. Damean stoked the burning fire and completely ignored him. The new King slowly took his coronation clothes off and slipped into a sleeping robe.

When he was done, Damean gently ordered the Elf-prince to stand before him. The human drunk in the beauty of his consort bathed in the flickering firelight. Legolas' hair shimmered and his eyes deepened into a dark blue. "You are so beautiful," Damean breathed.

Legolas decided it was best not to say anything if he didn't want to be punished. Damean gently ran his smooth fingers along the elf's face, memorizing every inch with touch. Legolas' skin burned like fire where the human touched. Damean continued to just slide his fingers across his face until Legolas couldn't take the silence any longer. "Why am I here?" the prince asked.

"I did not like your display of resistance tonight," the King said quietly. "I have to punish you now. Get onto the bed, the middle of it, and lie there, eyes closed."

The prince did as he was told albeit reluctantly. The mattress dipped under the human's weight when he climbed on. Damean straddled the Elf and warned him to keep his eyes shut no matter what happened.

He quickly grabbed the elf's wrists and clamped irons around them. He attached the other end of the chains to each bedpost above their heads. "Open your eyes, slave," the human said, his voice dangerously low.

Unwanted tears filled Legolas' eyes. "You said you wouldn't force me. You promised!" he hysterically exclaimed.

"And I hold to that promise," Damean hissed in the pointed ear. "But our deal said nothing about a little nighttime terrorization to a certain Elf Prince." The King of Harad nuzzled Legolas' ear before biting down hard on the pointed tip. Legolas bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from screaming in pain: Elven ears are positively the most sensitive part of the body.

Damean laughed cruelly and continued to the next ear.

Legolas moved around restlessly. He had been chained to Damean's bed for the past five days, not including the night Damean was crowned King. His hair had turned a muddy brown color from not washing it; his coronation clothes hung limply around his thin frame. Damean had been purposely ignoring his need to be clean and continued to ravish his sensitive ears at night, each time getting worst than the last. However, the human held to his promise and had not forced him into anything, yet.

Legolas' stomach growled loudly and he stared at the half naked man in front of him. Damean pulled a red shirt from his bureau, laced it up, and tucked it into his black breeches. Over that, he put on a black tunic and a matching cape.

He surveyed himself in the long mirror before turning to his consort. "What do you think, Legolas? Do I look presentable?"

"Black really isn't you color, Damean," replied Legolas icily. Right now the only thing the golden prince wanted to do was eat his first real meal in five days, and he could care less if he was punished.

Damean chuckled. "You don't know went to shut up, do you Legolas? Why are you so grumpy this morning? I rather enjoyed last night, didn't you?"

"No," the elf retorted. "I'm hungry, I smell like a dead animal, _and_ I have blood all over me. Why don't you tell me how I can't be grumpy!"

At this little speech, Damean laughed outright. "Point taken. I will send someone up to clean you off."

"But what about food?" Legolas whined childishly. "I'm _hungry_."

Damean ran a brush through his hair one last time and turned to the elf. "This is one reason why I never wanted children. They whine to much." He leaned over and gave Legolas a quick peck on the cheek. "Oh and before I forget..." Damean pulled a long, thick cloth from the bedside table, shoved it between the prince's teeth, and tied it tightly behind the elf's head, effectively gagging him.

Legolas settled back in the bed angrily. He could nothing but wait for the promised food to show up.

"Thranduil!" snapped the King of Harad. "Get up, you lazy fool!" A palace guard unlocked the door to the iron and stone cage the King of Mirkwood was sleeping in. His pale blue eyes lost its dreamy haze and focused sharply at the human who had rudely awakened him.

"Take these," Damean said, shoving some clothes into his hands. The elf stood bewildered and uncertain of what he should be doing. The human king rolled his eyes and grabbed Thranduil's upper arm and dragged him to the stairway in front of Aragorn's cell. To the Elf's surprise, the traitorous son of Arathorn was being handled in the same way, only he was handed a platter of fresh food instead of clothes.

Damean drew a chain with a key on it from his neck and handed it to one of his guards. "Only you are authorized to touch this key besides myself. Understood? These slaves are not allowed to even think about taking it. Guard it with your life."

The guard, obviously knowing what the key was for, saluted the King and said, "Yes, your Majesty!"

Damean nodded, pleased, and turned to the kings in captivity. "Follow him," he instructed. "You put one toe out of line and I'll have your entire families murdered."

Thranduil and Aragorn bowed their heads muttered, "Yes, master."

"Good," he said simply and strode from the dungeons.

"If you'll follow me? I think you might be pleased," the guard said with a hidden smile.

Legolas shifted again and sighed, exasperated. When was the food going to come?! He was so hungry he could've eaten like a Hobbit, and still claim to be starving.

The elf's keen hearing picked up the heavy footsteps of a palace guard, and the lighter ones — almost elf-like— of Aragorn. The sounds stopped in front of the door to the outer room, and a hushed tone floated through to Legolas' ears. He couldn't make out the words, but it sounded like someone was being reprimanded.

The main door swung open and a guard stepped through, letting in two more persons. Legolas craned his neck to see if it was just a few maids to straighten up, or his food. The guard lightly pushed the two figures toward the King's bedroom.

"Ada! Estel!" cried Legolas overjoyed even though he knew they couldn't understand him.

Aragorn's smile lit up room as his gaze settled on his best friend. Thranduil looked both extremely happy and sad to see his son. Happy because Legolas was alive, sad because Thranduil had a very good guess of why the prince was chained to a bed and gagged.

The guard unlocked the manacles and allowed the elf to pull the gag from his mouth and throw it to the ground. A wide grin adorned his face as saw his loved ones and...

"Food!!" Legolas leapt from the bed and raced for the platter Aragorn was holding. The ex-King of Gondor squeaked and hid behind Thranduil.

"Your son is a menace, Thranduil!" Aragorn joked. The King of Mirkwood growled and grabbed his son. Legolas immediately sobered up and met his father's stare for stare.

The guard cleared his throat and announced, "There is a bath waiting for you, Elf, if you want to clean up. You only get a half an hour so hurry up."

Legolas eyes lit up and he scampered for the bathing room. When the elf and the man entered the room, Legolas had already settled himself in the bath and looked quite content to just soak.

"Nostach be Orch gaer [you smell like an orc]," Thranduil said, amused.

"Hantale [thanks]," Legolas replied without opening his eyes. Aragorn busted up laughing and it wasn't long before the room was bubbling with excitement and mirth.

"Has he been treating you well, Legolas?" Thranduil asked as he washed the soapsuds from his son's shining golden hair.

"As well as can be expected, Ada. He is a human after all." Legolas opened one eye and glanced at the son of Arathorn who feigned being hurt. "No offence, Estel, but honestly, human men are disgusting. He leaves his clothes wherever they drop and he hardly use mint when washing his mouth. _That_, I think, is one of his _best_ virtues. That man is utterly vile!"

Thranduil frowned. _What have I gotten you into, my son?_ he thought.

"Okay, I'm done. Turn around so I may dress," ordered Legolas. Smiling, the elf and man turned, honoring the prince's request.

They heard the rustling of the pants being unfolding and slid on. Legolas groaned. "What is it, ion nin?" Thranduil asked without turning around.

"These breeches are a size too small!" he whined. "This is just lovely! I'm going to have to walk in public with these bloody things sticking to me..." Legolas walked out of the washing room.

Aragorn and Thranduil burst out laughing and followed. Legolas was right. Breeches were made to hug the skin, but these definitely were too small. Aragorn couldn't help but notice they did flatter his backside and shapely legs. He realized that was Damean's entire purpose.

"For Valar's sake, Legolas, walking around half naked will only make your situation worse," snapped Thranduil. He held out a deep blue shirt that matched Legolas' eyes. The Elf prince glared, but took it and pulled it over his head.

Legolas snatched a grape from the platter and devoured it in record time. "This tastes so good!" he exclaimed and grabbed two more.

"You act like you haven't eaten in a week!" Aragorn jested.

"Well, if you don't count that roll I ate on the night of the coronation, I haven't, Estel," replied Legolas now grabbing a piece of fresh-baked bread.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "You mean he's been _starving you!?_" he roared.

"Ada, daro i[stop it]!" Legolas warned. "I am fine! It's not like I had to do something that required strength. For the past five days I've done nothing but lay here, chained to a bed. It's been rather annoying and boring. I'm so glad he sent you!" Legolas hugged his father fiercely. He turned to Aragorn and gave the human the same ministration.

Suddenly, Legolas' head shot up and he hissed, "Sedho! Lasto! [Quiet! Listen!]" Legolas pointed to the door. "He is coming! Quick, hide under the bed!"

A moment later Damean banged the door open and strode through his rooms. Legolas stood immobile as Damean walked past him to lay something carefully on the bed. "Where are the slaves I sent?"

"They left sometime ago," Legolas said meekly.

Damean snorted and bit into a piece of white meat from the platter. "You are a fickle Elf, Legolas. This morning all you could do was whine and beg me for food, and now you have barely touched it."

"I am not hungry," replied Legolas. At that moment, his stomach decided to growl loudly and protest against the words spoken. Legolas turned beet red and clutched his stomach, mentally telling it to hush.

Damean smirked. "Yet your stomach says otherwise." The King picked up a cherry and stalked closer to the elf standing next to the bed. A sudden push sent the elf tumbling back onto it. Thanks to elvish grace, he recovered quickly and scooted away from the King.

Damean straddled the elf's hips and pressed the cherry against his lips. Legolas turned his head away. The human grabbed his chin and forced the elf to look at him. A crack resounded throughout the room.

Thranduil winced; his son had just been slapped. The King of Mirkwood wanted to do nothing more than strangle the Haradrim for touching Legolas. A restraining hand on his shoulder told him not to do anything rash for it would only hurt the prince. Damean's voice brought them back to awareness.

"Maybe I should use a different approach...." A small plop could be heard, like someone had sucked something small through their mouth.

It was Aragorn's turn to be disgusted and want to kill the man. His best friend shouldn't have to go through this because of him. Arathorn's son could only blame himself and his weakness for the position Legolas was now in.

Legolas sent a plea to the Valar to end his life and slowly took the cherry between his teeth from the King's lips. Damean suddenly jammed his entire fist down Legolas' throat, choking him. Beneath the bed, Thranduil heard a hand weakly beating against a chest and gurgling noises.

Damean withdrew his hand and wiped the spit off on Legolas' shirt. He bent down and fervently sucked on the elf's luscious red lips. The need for air grew, and the kisses turned more passionate and noisy.

A sudden knock on the door startled them all and Damean quickly sat up. "Who dare disturbs me?!" he roared.

"I'm really sorry, sir!" squeaked a maid on the outside. "The Steward of Gondor has arrived. He is waiting in the gardens."

Damean sighed. "Tell him, I will be with him shortly." Turning back to Legolas he added, "We _will_ continue this later, slave."

Legolas sat up and lowered his thick lashes in a sign of respect. Damean grinned maliciously. "I have a present for you. Since you are my slave, I thought it would be rather appropriate to mark you as such. Kneel and close your eyes."

Aragorn and Thranduil saw Legolas dropped to his knees. Damean picked up the parcel he had carried before and unwrapped it. The object inside was circular shape and had Tengwar words inscribe around it. It was a slave collar.

Damean put it around the elf's neck and snapped it shut. Legolas hands quickly rose to his throat and clawed at the offending thing. "A very nice Dwarf, I believe by the name of Gimli, crafted this. And dear Gandalf was nice enough to put a little spell that makes the collar stay on forever unless the right word is spoken. I'm afraid only _I_ know that word."

"No, Damean, please! _Please don't do this! Please!_" Legolas wailed; this was exactly what he had been afraid of. Now that it had come true, Legolas nearly lost the will to live. The human hauled the elf to his feet and slapped him soundly on the cheek. Legolas whimpered and clutched his neck, desperately trying to pull off the collar. Tears fell like streams from his big blue eyes. "Please take it off! _Please!_"

Something inside the human's heart moved and he felt sudden pity for the creature he had been torturing. The King left before he showed his vulnerable soft side, leaving his consort broken and crying.

But before he shut the door, Damean said softly, "We leave for Mirkwood on the morrow. Be a sweetheart and pack tonight." Then he was gone.

Legolas slid down the wall and curled into a ball on the floor. When Thranduil was sure the monster was gone, he rushed to Legolas' side and held him, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear.

Aragorn looked on, unsure of what to do. The only other time Legolas had ever cried was when his mother had died. Seeing his best friend like this broke his heart into a million pieces.

"Why'd he have to do this? He's already humiliated me in front of all his people, now he has to do it in front of mine! Now, _everybody_ will know I'm his bed slave!" Legolas sobbed against his father's bare chest. "I just wish I was dead," the young elf whispered almost inaudibly.

Thranduil grabbed his son's shoulders and gave them a soft but firm shake. "Never, _ever_, say that or even think that. The Valar have a reason for everything. Just except it."

"Maybe the reason I'm here is to die," the prince said dejectedly.

"No, Legolas, listen to me," Thranduil began.

"No, _you_ listen to me!" Legolas interrupted. "It was _my_ friendship with Estel that brought me here in the first place. I do not blame Estel; he is my best friend and I could _never_ blame him for my mistake. It was _my _weakness that caused you to choose me over Mirkwood. _My_ weakness shall be the death of us all. And it will be _my_ fault when we ride from the forests of Mirkwood as they burn to the ground. Your reign shall fail because of _me_, and _only _me."

"Legolas, no..." Thranduil breathed. He held out a hand for the younger elf to take hold of, but the prince just brushed it aside.

Legolas stood from the ground without assistance and wiped his eyes. He ran slim fingers through his ruffled hair and straightened his tunic. He reached a hand forward to open the wardrobe closet when the door suddenly burst open and the King walked in.

A shocked expression crossed his face before it exploded into anger. "What are they doing in here, Legolas!?" Damean bellowed.

Legolas stepped protectively between his father and best friend, and the King of Harad. He schooled his face to be that of a calm, well-controlled Elf as he had done so many in his father's court. "I called them back here so they might fetch me some clothes for our journey tomorrow. I have naught except what I am wearing, and I would rather have multiple pairs of clothes."

Damean stared hard into the eyes of his slave trying to detect a hint of deceit, but found none. Legolas kept his gaze cool and calm, and his face innocent.

"Couldn't you have fetched them yourself, slave?" Damean remarked.

Legolas dropped his head and answered, "I — I was afraid of your — of your guards. I didn't want them to take advantage of me when I was most vulnerable."

The human chuckled. "Why would my men want _you?_

"Do not pretend you don't see their looks of lust! Every time they came in here to give you a message, or to report something, it was _me _they were really looking at!" Legolas eyes welled up again before Damean realized they were already red and puffy.

"Have you been crying the whole afternoon?" he asked incredulously. Legolas nodded in shame. "But why?"

"It is this slave collar, Damean, I mean master," he corrected quickly, his eyes flashing with grief and fury. "One, it is horribly tight and itchy. Two, now everyone in all of Middle-Earth will know that Prince Legolas of Mirkwood is a mere possession of King Damean of Harad. I am slave, but I there is no need to flaunt it around."

"Come here, Legolas," Damean ordered softly. Legolas stood before him with his head bowed, his hair making a curtain around his face. He wrapped his arms around the young elf and rested his chin on the bowed head of the prince.

"Thranduil, get him a fortnight's worth of clothes, and a pair of boots, will you? Aragorn, go to the kitchens and fetch a bowl of hot soup," Damean commanded.

"Yes, master," they said in unison and left to carry out their tasks.

"Lay down on the bed, Legolas, and sleep. I will try nothing tonight. I promise," whispered Damean.

Legolas sighed as he shifted into a comfortable position for sleeping. His eyes glazed over and he was lost in the world of obliviousness.

A/N: Not too much slash, I hope. Please don't hate me! I'll shift it to non-slash as much as possible, ok?! Review.

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Responses to Reviews:

Little ME: Well, for the time being I think Legolas does hate Damean, but you never know. He may wake up crazy one day... hehe.

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Elessar—Lover: I am really sorry!! I guess I didn't realize it was that graphic. I'll try to tone it down a bit. I give you full rights to completely yell at me if I get carried away, ok?

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Kenobisaqt: I'm glad you liked it. You know, a handful of people has asked me if Damean and Legolas are going to fall in love. I should make a poll out of it, huh? Well, all I'm gonna say is, you decide whether they are or aren't.

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Toby Keith Fanatic: I really don't know if he's going to turn gay or not. I mean, he does have a female lover in Mirkwood, but under the current circumstances, you never know!

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Elven-Star-of-Gold: Lol, you can have Damean all to your self, as soon as this fic is over, I promise!! And I will happily supply the chains! You can't kill Elladan!! I love him!!!

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Kawaiishinichan: Really long name!! Legolas will get more torture, I promise!! But it will really depend on my mood if it's physical or mental!

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AllThatJaZZ1: Lol, the plot shall thicken even more! I hope this one wasn't too rushed. For the last one, I just wanted to get it posted as quickly as possible and move the story line along really fast because I'm going to be ending it soon. Thank you for reviewing!!

LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: I love your name!! I promise Legolas will defy Damean a lot more, but you know, that will only get him punished!!

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Katie: I think everybody feels more sorry for Thranduil. They _are_ in a tighter spot. I'm not sure if I want them to escape.... I really am mean!! Lol!

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Adarnell: I glad you love it!! Thanks for the review!! Oh, and don't worry, plenty of people review to meet my demands! I don't think I'll be quitting this story!

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Celebdil-Galad and Tinlaure: I would never make Legolas fall in love with Damean. That would be too gross! And what Damean has for Legolas is lust, not love, so you have nothing to worry about! And, yes, Legolas is a straight Elf. I'm pretty sure it will not go beyond kissing. Plus I put the little warning symbols around the slashy part. But I'm really thinking about Legolas escaping and everything ending happy. Shh! Don't tell anyone I told you that!

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Elenillor: Lol, I gots the good stuff!! Thanks for the review!


	17. Author's Note 2

I know I promised an update by the end of the month, but it's not going to happen. I'm really busy with my school stuff and I have a MAJOR writer's block. I hate those!! So, again, I'm really sorry!! I promise on my own life that you will have an update some time in September. If not, I give y'all the permission to flame me!

Luv

Andmetwen


	18. Going Home

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I wish I did.

A/N: Hey guyz! I really sorry I've been unreliable with posts and everything. I just wanted a vacation without computers and stuff, so I took it. But now I'm back and ready to rock and roll!! Yeah, I know, really corny.

Ok, this chapter is going to be **rushed,** long but rushed, because I really want to end the story as fast as possible. So this chappie is gonna be run over the span of about a month to a month and a half to possibly two months. I hope that's okay with y'all.

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POLL #1: Should Damean and Legolas fall in love?

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POLL #2: Should Legolas and all the captured Elves escape?

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POLL #3: Should this be a happy ending, or a sad ending? Should there be a sequel?

Please tell me what you prefer!! I don't want anyone to go unsatisfied!

Stuff in these ... is slash!!! You have been warned!!

Everything italicized is either in a different language, or is being said in thought.

12 reviews or I won't post the next chapter!! Lol, I don't think that threat works anymore.

Oh! And all the characters are going to be completely 'out of character'. Sorry! Couldn't help it!

"Legolas? Legolas wake up, darling."

The young Elf groaned, closed his eyes, and pulled the silk sheets above his head in an attempt to block out the offending voice. A hand shook his shoulder gently while the previous words were repeated.

"Legolas, you need to wake up, now. It is time for us to leave."

"I don' wanna go!" he grumbled, his voice muffled from underneath the covers. The voice chuckled.

"Get up!" The hand gripped the sheets and pulled them completely off the frame of the Elf. Legolas curled swiftly into a tiny ball to try and retain some heat, but to no avail. He opened his eyes to look around the bright room.

Damean was in the outer room, handing the last two travel bags to a servant. He was dressed richly, yet simply in black velvet breeches and a white cotton shirt that opened at the top to reveal a tan, muscular chest. The human entered the bedroom and smiled cheerfully to see his consort awake.

"Good morning, precious!" he exclaimed brightly.

Legolas grunted unhappily in response. His eyes were still heavy with exhaustion and his limbs felt weak from disuse. "What time is it?" he mumbled as he rubbed his face.

"Nine o'clock in the morning!" Damean said. "Get up, and get dressed; I want to be out of this palace by 9:30."

Legolas grunted again, but got up from the bed and did as he was told. On a chair near the bed was an outfit identical to the one he wore before his capture with one difference: his royal status was not on the tunic as it should have been. He gazed sadly at the garb, fully realizing, but not for the first time, the precarious situation he was in.

The Elf pulled on the dark gray-blue leggings, which were, mercifully, just the right size, and a pale blue shirt. Over that he put a forest green tunic with silver embroidery and a brown belt to hold it up. As a finishing touch, he added a cloak the same color as his breeches.

Damean walked in just as Legolas finished buttoning the clasp on his cloak. "Are you ready, my love?" the human asked in a sticky sweet voice.

Legolas glared hatefully at his captor. Damean's smile was replaced by a frown, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "Legolas, when are you going to except the fact that you and me are together now?"

"We are not together," Legolas replied through gritted teeth. The human slapped the Elf across the face.

"Do not disrespect me like that, slave!" he reprimanded. "Your disobedience will only earn you pain. What don't you understand about that?"

"You must pardon my bluntness this one time, Damean, but _we_ _are not a couple_. I was taken by my will to become merely another conquest of yours, which you shall encounter many in life. I am sorry if you thought I was here on my own free will, by I regret to inform you that you are sadly mistaken."

"Legolas, now is not the time for me to punish you, but you can bet you will be before this journey is over," Damean said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned away from the Elf, exasperated.

"Is that a threat?" Legolas asked mockingly.

The human rotated his head so he could see his prisoner from the corner of his eye. "No, Legolas, it is a promise. You will learn that I do not break my promises." He left the room silently, leaving the Elf to contemplate on what he just heard.

"I don't see why I have to be bound," Legolas grumbled. "Where would I run, anyhow? We are in the middle of a desert."

"It is a precautionary, slave," Damean replied without looking at the Elf. "If you open your eyes, you will see _all_ my slaves are bound."

Legolas glanced at the group of people collecting in the courtyard. His father, Aragorn, Lumlier, Mandolin, Falacas, and a handful of very important Elven nobles were indeed tightly chained just as their Prince was. The young Elf bristled at the unfairness of everything and quietly cursed the Valar. He knew such thoughts would just bring more bad luck, but he figured nothing more serious than this could possibly faze him.

"How long is this voyage?" Legolas asked.

"Approximately 23 hundred miles. It will take us a little more than a month, if we travel by oliphant."

"A_ what?_" Legolas hissed. "You mean to bring that giant beast into my _home?"_

"Oh no!" Damean chuckled. "We will be traveling by horse as soon as we hit the Old Forest Road."

Legolas smirked gleefully on the inside. The Haradrim was taking the long way to Mirkwood. They could easily make the trip in half the time of they took a boat up river of the Anduin. But if the human King was too stupid to realize it, Legolas would not point out the short cut.

A small woman slave from Gondor gently took hold of seat-like harness that was being lowered from the carrying box on top of the oliphant. "My Lord," she said meekly to the curious Elf. "Please, sit, so we may pull you up."

Legolas softly gripped her neck and cheek bones with his chained hands and said, "My beautiful Lady, I am no more free than you are. Please, do not call me 'Lord'." The woman blushed and asked him again to sit. Legolas sighed and sat stiffly in the leather harness; a Haradrim already in the box jerked the rope up, nearly unseating the frightened Elf. He held on tightly to the side of the harness, praying to the Valar that he would not die, even though moments before he had been cursing them.

Once Legolas was pulled to the top, one of the Palace Guards took hold of his upper arms and dragged him to a corner that was occupied by luggage. The soldier shifted through the bags until a small opening was made, then he thrust Legolas into a sitting position in the hole. "Stay," the Guard grunted then turned to heave up his King.

Legolas pushed himself up so he could see over the side of the box. At that moment, in the oliphant behind the Haradrim King's, Thranduil, along with his subjects, was being handled in the same disgracing manner. Legolas settled back in his little niche, anger coursing like fire through his veins. The Elf-King was thousands of years older than the arrogant human was yet he was treated no better than a field mouse.

Damean stepped into the box and smoothed his hair behind his ears. "I'll never get used to that," he admitted to Legolas. The Elf glared but said nothing. "What is the matter slave?" Damean asked.

"I don't appreciate you treating my Father like less than a sack of grain!" Legolas snapped.

"You know, however beautiful I find your voice, it will soon become bothersome to me, and we don't want that, now do we?" Damean mused. He drew out a long piece of cloth and shoved it between the Elf's perfectly aligned, white teeth.

"There! That should do it!" the human said in a victorious tone. Legolas shouted curses upon the hated King in every tongue of Arda that he knew.

"_Silencieux_ Silence!" Damean spat and cuffed his consort. Legolas, still muttering bad things about the human, recoiled and rolled himself into a little ball, keeping as much distance between his captor and himself. Damean rolled his eyes and went to the front to direct the now-in-motion caravan.

Almost a two weeks later, when the group had already settled down in their makeshift camp, Legolas approached the human King.

"My Lord," he said. "I was wondering if you would grant me a favor."

"What would that be, midear?" Damean replied, his speech slurred. He was drunk, as usual.

"My kin have not eaten since before this journey began. They are — fading. Please, will you allow them food?"

"Why should I grant them the luxury of food if they do not respect me or think of me as their overlord?" Damean asked. He stood and swayed dangerously before regaining his balance.

"I do not know, my Lord," Legolas said. "But I promise you that they will be more — more obedient if you are kinder to them."

"Kinder?!" bellowed the human. "I have been kind! I have allowed them to live for goodness sake! Why should I keep sacrificing for others' when they do not appreciate it?"

Legolas lowered his head; this talk was not going as planned. "Please, my Lord. If you give them this, they would be forever grateful."

Damean stroked his chin thoughtfully. A malicious grin suddenly adorned his face, his eyes twinkling with corrupt light. "I will give them bread and water," he said. Legolas' face visibly relaxed. "But for every slice your kin and that despicable ranger eat, you receive two lashes with a whip."

"Done!" Legolas said without thinking. His family and friends were the only ones he could think of; his own welfare meant nothing to him at that moment.

"Good. Balim! I want you to tell the cook that I want two loaves of bread cut into twenty slices each and given to the slaves," Damean ordered.

"Yes, sir," Balim, a squire in the service of the King's best soldier, said and bowed.

Legolas quickly calculated the amount of lashes he would receive if both loaves were consumed. Eighty. The Elf winced. He had never encountered such a whipping in his life. The highest it had ever been was fifty, and that was when he had Aragorn had been captured by orcs on their many adventures. Legolas had felt the need to protect the human and took his as well as the ranger's share of lashes. This was somehow much more perilous.

Thranduil's eyes refocused when he heard a person approaching. It was a servant of the royal cook bringing them food and drink. "From my Lord, the King," the servant said. "He wishes you a good meal and bids you to rest unafraid this night."

Thranduil nodded his head and took the heavy platter from the servant. He handed the water out to his eight subjects, to the fallen King of Gondor, and finally leaving one for himself. Then his set the bread in the middle of the circle they had formed on the ground. "Let us eat," he said in a quiet voice. The Elves smiled and reached for a piece of bread. Lively, yet low, chatter soon began amongst the captives and all was well for those few minutes.

Aragorn slid over next to the Elven King. "You are not eating," the Elf remarked.

"Nor are you," Aragorn replied with a wry smile. Thranduil looked in the opposite direction of the eating Elves. Aragorn followed his gaze and was surprised to see the King looking at his son, curled in a fetal position. Legolas appeared to be in a trance, perhaps a light sleep.

"My son has not eaten either," Thranduil said. "I do not want to allow myself this privilege if Legolas does not also get it."

Aragorn put a callused hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "You need your strength. Eat, so we may find a way to escape. We are Legolas' only hope, and if we are weak from mal-nourishment, he will have lost that hope."

"You are right," Thranduil said. "I shall eat, if you do."

Aragorn swept his arm toward the near empty platter. "After you."

"They have finished, slave," Damean said, his tone revealing nothing. "It is time for you to uphold your part of the bargain."

Legolas rose gracefully and stood with half closed eyes before his captor. "Let us get this over with."

Damean shoved the Elf in front of him and ordered him to move. Legolas' feet dragged on the soft earth; he was dreading the impending punishment. From the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Thranduil stand to his feet in a worried fashion. The younger Elf turned sad eyes to his father, telling him silently not to do anything rash. Thranduil sat back down, hard. What was his son doing?

The answer was soon apparent when Damean wrapped shackles around Legolas' wrists and strung him up on a low hanging limb near the puzzled slaves. Legolas stretched his body as far as it would go, but still his feet barely touched the ground. It seemed the Haradrim King wanted the Elf to be in as much discomfort as possible. Then the lashing began. The first kiss of the whip stung like fire on his skin, but Legolas quickly numbed his body so he would feel none of it. He just jerked against his bonds with each blow.

Faintly he heard his father screaming for the King to halt his madness and he saw Aragorn with clouded eyes struggling to reach his side. Then Legolas shut down, his entire form going limp and his breathing ragged from abuse. Damean struck him one last time, finally reaching the promised eighty lashes. Aragorn was red in the face from his futile attempt to rescue Legolas.

Damean lowered the whip. "If anybody so much as touches him without my consent, they will wish they were dead."

Thranduil shot flaming daggers at the human as he walked passed them. The scum would die a most painful death for harming his son before Thranduil drew his last breath. That he vowed.

Legolas opened his eyes. Pain hit him like a tidal wave and he quickly wished he was still unconscious. He moaned and moved to rub his eyes only to discover he was still hanging from the tree. The smell of his puddle of blood reached his keen nose, making him nauseous.

Legolas heard shouting behind him and several beings ran up to him. He groaned as they disturbed his wounds as they gently unlocked his wrists and lowered him to his knees. The young Elf coughed when air poured more easily into his lungs and he raised bleary eyes to see who his savior was. He met the concerned gray eyes of Aragorn and the angry blue eyes of his father. Behind them, the eight other Elves watched apprehensively.

"He's lost too much blood," he heard Aragorn say. "I don't think he's going to make it." Legolas' eyes fluttered closed and the soothing darkness approached, quickly claiming him.

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"Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad. Legolas, come back, come back to me." Hear my voice, come back to the light.

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I don't want to come back, Legolas said to the voice._ It is so peaceful here! Leave me be!_

"Legolas, ion nin, saes, tolo dan na nin. Le melon." Legolas, my son, please, come back to me. I love you. (A/N: I'm not sure if my translation, or even my Elvish, is correct, but I did get it off of a translation site.)

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I cannot remember what love feels like, Legolas said bitterly. _Please go away._

"_Melin ceni hin lîn síla i 'eladhach,_ _Legolas. Saes, tolo dan na ngalad." _I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh, Legolas. Please, come back to the light.

Legolas gasped as he was suddenly pulled back into his own body and away from the darkness that had embraced him and had taken his pain away. He wildly rolled his eyes around, trying to recognize his surroundings. Hands held down his bucking form as Legolas tried to free himself. "_Daro i!_Stop that! You will hurt yourself even more!"

The young Elf went limp, his strength spent. "Where am I?" he asked.

"You are currently in Rhosgobel, the house of Radagast the Brown," the gentle voice said.

"What!?" yelped Legolas. He sat up so fast his head began spinning and he got an instant migraine. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to numb himself against the onslaught of fresh pain.

"You have been unconscious for the past two weeks. I thought I had lost you!" Thranduil's face came into view of Legolas' squinted eyes. Tears welled in the older Elf's eyes and he pulled his youngest son into a hug. Legolas flinched from the contact to his surprisingly still sore wounds.

"Elessar nearly spilled his life force into saving you," Thranduil explained with a grateful grin to the bashful human.

"It was nothing," Aragorn said.

"Then Master Radagast was kind enough to allow you to rest in his home after Aragorn healed the worst of your wounds. Yet you showed no sign of life until this morning. The Valar were merciful enough to send you back into my life." Thranduil's voice broke as he began sobbing.

"Master Mithrandir sends his deepest apologies to you, Prince Legolas," Radagast said. His voice was high and reminded the Elf of birds chirping in the dawn. He was a tall, thin, old man with coarse red hair and beard that hung to the middle of his torso. "He had no idea he had magicked the objects to imprison you. He is fervently working on a spell to break the collar from your neck."

Legolas long, slender fingers flew to his throat. They connected with the cold metal of the collar and his face fell. "Where is Damean?" he asked fearfully.

"Outside, packing a horse for you," Aragorn said. "We are leaving tomorrow morning. We ride through the Old Forest Road to the River Celduin. Then we follow the river to your father's gates."

"I wonder what Damean would do if I pushed him into the Enchanted River," Legolas muttered, thoughtfully.

Thranduil laughed. "Can you sit up?" The younger Elf, with assistance, was able to prop himself against the simple headboard. The Elven King produced a small cup of water; Legolas drank greedily. Next he was fed a porridge-like substance that tasted of maple and honey.

"I feel refreshed," Legolas. "Hannon le Thank you."

"Why don't you sleep, my son. I will wake you on the morrow to leave." Legolas nodded, happy to comply. He settled back in a comfortable position in the fluffy pillows and let his eyes glaze over and he was lost in the world of Elven dreams.

"I don't care how you do it, just wake him up!" a frightened voice echoed through the room. Legolas blinked his eyes slowly, but did not move out from under the warm covering.

Moments later a terrified Falacas came running in. "Prince Legolas, please get up! He is going to kill your father if you do not stop him!"

"What!?" Legolas cried and struggled to untangle himself from the sheets. "Help me walk!" Falacas grabbed his Prince's arm and practically dragged the Elf to the door where Legolas could see Damean advancing on his fallen father with a sword.

"Damean, stop this madness!" Legolas shouted from the door.

The Haradrim King looked up, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets from rage. "This is no business of yours, slave!" he roared back.

Legolas released himself from Falacas' hold and limped quickly to his captor. When Damean failed to notice his hurt consort, the Elf threw himself in front of the human, one hand around taking hold of the sword hilt, and the other pressing against the human's chest to stay his movements.

"Legolas, get off me!" Damean said as Thranduil rose and moved some distance away. The older Elf stared with wide, anxious eyes while his son stepped between Thranduil and his would-be killer. "Legolas, did you not hear my words? Unhand me or I shall kill you!"

"Va! No!" Thranduil hissed, fearing for Legolas' life.

When Damean continued to push forward with fire flashing in his eyes, paying no heed to the weakened slave trying to hold him back, Legolas wrapped his arms around the human's neck and buried his face at the point where shoulder met neck. "Please, master, do not harm him," he whispered the King's ear.

Damean stopped in his tracks, confused and surprised at the sudden action, and nearly shivered with delight as warm breath connected with his ear. "He is not worthy of your anger, master. Do not waste your time on lowlifes like my father. Concentrate on what is being offered to you!" Legolas then gently nipped the human's earlobe and kissed along his pronounced jawbone until he met Damean's lips. The Elf caught the Haradrim off guard when he smashed their lips together in a desperate, though obviously reluctant, kiss. 

"Please, leave him be!" Legolas said one last time when he was sure he had the human's attention.

Damean smiled pleasingly. "You are beginning to learn your place in life, my love. Very well, I shall let him alone this time, but do not be so quick to defend him in the future for it will be you who will be hurt."

Legolas nodded and let go of his captor. Damean sheathed his sword, grabbed Legolas' hand and stalked to a large, black war stallion that was stamping impatiently. "You will ride with me until you are fit to walk." He swung the Elf effortlessly into the saddle and climbed in behind him.

"My thanks for your hospitality, Master Radagast," Damean said politely with an inclined head. The wizard smiled coldly and turned on his heel to enter his house.

"What of my father and my people?" Legolas dared to ask.

"They are to walk along side my soldiers horses," Damean replied. "I have taken into recognition that they are weak and may not be able to keep up so I will keep the pace — _slow_."

Legolas did not trust the evil hint or the smile he heard in Damean's voice. His suspicions proved true when the human kicked his stallion into a canter, heading for the path of the Old Forest Road. "You call this slow?" Legolas roared.

"Do not question my authority, Elf!" Damean ordered. "Now, be silent. I do not want to hear another word from you unless I permit it!"

Legolas glowered. He wouldn't allow that beast to treat his father and subjects like this! "And what of Aragorn?" Legolas asked not heeding the warning only minutes before.

"Didn't I say I wanted silence?" Damean remarked. "Elessar is expected to keep up."

"This is not fair, Damean!" Legolas protested. "Your quarrel is with me, not them! Why punish them when they have done you no wrong? Please! Allow them to ride!"

"Pleading will get you no where in life, slave," Damean said bitterly, thinking of the times he'd begged his desceased father for things. "I learned that, and now so shall you."

Legolas peered to his left and watched as his beautiful forests rushed by. Suddenly he grabbed the rein connected to the left side of the bit and pulled hard. The black stallion whinnied and reared angrily, trying to unseat his riders.

Damean leaned far forward sending his mount to ground with his weight then pulled the horse in tight circles to stop him from rearing again. When he was certain the stallion was calm enough, Damean stopped the circling and yanked Legolas' head back by his hair and demanded, "Legolas, what did you think you were doing?!"

Legolas lowered his lashes and saw his father leaning forward, his hands on his knees, panting heavily. He also saw, for the first time, the coarse noose around everyone's neck. So _that_ was how they were forced to keep up. Thranduil looked up, silently thanking his son for the brief reprieve; they had been running for nearly half an hour. Usually an elf would not tire, but in their weakened, malnutritioned state, their strength was leaking from them fast. Aragorn was hardly better off; the throne had made him soft compared to the wilderness hardened ranger the Elf once knew.

"You missed the Old Forest Road in your haste to punish my kin. I was just trying to direct you down the right path," Legolas said. "I am sorry if I offended you by trying to help."

"Do not mock me with that tone, slave!" Damean barked. He seemed at a loss for words about his mistake.

"I am sorry, my Lord. I will not attempt to help you again without your consent," Legolas replied, knowing Damean's blood was boiling by now. The Elf was purposefully making a fool of the human before his men.

Damean renewed his tight grip in Legolas' hair and pulled his head back harshly, exposing more of his neck. Falacas straightened and stepped forward, determined to stop the abuse being done to his Prince. The guard his neck rope had been given to yanked back on the rope, causing the graceful Elf to stumble and fall on his back. The guard drew his sword and pressed his gently on Falacas' throat, denying his wish to stand.

Legolas swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, as he watched the older Elf being thrown to the ground. "I will hear no more talk, from any of you!" Damean declared. "Let the Elf rise; we need to continue." The human finally let go of Legolas' hair and kicked his stallion. The horse reared again and set off at a gallop; he was ready to run!

Several minutes later, Legolas heard a distinct thud and risked looking back. Aragorn had fallen and was unable to rise again. Thus he was dragged dangerously close to the horse's hooves he had been running next to. The Elf watched as the Haradrim Guard jeered at the ex-King of Gondor.

"Damean, please, stop!" Legolas begged to his captor.

"What is your problem now, slave?" the King growled.

"'Tis Aragorn! He has fallen!"

"Well it is his fault he cannot rise!" Damean said with a laugh.

"Your man will not allow him to! Every time he gets a leverage of some type, that guard knocks him back down! You must do something!"

Damean wheeled his stallion around suddenly, causing his men to nearly crash into each other as they hurried to stop. Aragorn flopped onto his back as he breathed hard, trying to catch his breath. "Get up, slave!" Damean cried.

Aragorn groaned deep in his throat and rolled onto all fours before slowly rising. Damean nudged his horse over to the beaten human. "Can you run no further?" he asked softly, almost gently.

Aragorn, though he loathed admitting it, shook his head. The Haradrim clenched and unclenched his teeth several times before commanding that the captives be allowed to ride. The Elves and Man gratefully climbed on in front of the Haradrim Guards. The King glared at everyone and said, "Is there anything else?" Naught a word was said. "Good. Then let us ride on!"

The company rode until they hit the halfway mark of the Old Forest Road before stopping in a clearing near a fresh water lake that Mandolin had recommended. It was just after five in the afternoon. Damean dismounted and roughly pulled Legolas off after him. The King was in a bad mood; they had not ridden as far into the forest as he had hoped and all the stopping and going had finally chased him into losing his temper.

"Put up the tents!" he snapped at his bewildered guards who hurried to comply.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Legolas asked dutifully.

"My horse," Damean muttered, seemingly lost in thought. Seconds later he shook his head as if ridding his mind of the clouds invading it and said, "Yes, bring me my horse."

Legolas nodded, puzzled, but relieved. The stallion was drenched in sweat and seemed to wobble in weariness with every step he took. Damean took the reins and softly scratched the horse's forehead. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to the animal. "I didn't mean to push you so hard. Let's get you cleaned up." Damean entwined his fingers with Legolas' and led his horse in the direction of the lake.

The King took the saddle from the horse's back and dripped water on his sides to cool him down. Once the stallion was completely wet, the human took off his bridle and let him graze.

"Does he have a name?" Legolas asked as he watched the magnificent creature eat.

"I call him Legacy," Damean replied.

"Legacy? Why?"

"His sire was the fastest stallion of this Age, and his dam was the most beautiful mare ever to be seen. He was born with both virtues; so I named him Legacy because it means 'inherited'. His former owner used to abuse him and I couldn't handle it, so I bought him."

Legolas' formed his mouth to look like an 'o'.

Damean smiled. "I sound like a fool, don't I?"

"No," Legolas said. "You sound like you really love him."

"I do," Damean admitted. "I have a soft spot for animals, although I may not show it. Any creature that suffers, I take pity upon."

"You could've fooled me," Legolas muttered.

"I heard that," the King said sleepily as he lowered himself to the ground.

"Good," the Elf replied saucily.

"Legolas, it is not my fault you continue to disobey me. Remember our conversation before my coronation? I said I would hate to punish you during this relationship, but I asked that you heed my wishes. You have not done so thus far."

"What about the other week when you nearly whipped me to death!? That was not punishment! That was for your own sick humor!" Legolas exclaimed.

"I thought that would teach you not to bargain with other peoples' lives if you do not even have your own secure."

Legolas snorted"Dôl lost lîn. You have an empty head."

"You know I don't like it when you speak in that cursed tongue of yours," Damean said.

"Rhachon le! Nai Ungoliant meditha le! I curse you! May Ungoliant devour you!" Legolas hissed as he stormed off. A/N: Ungoliant is an evil creature of spider-form who was Melkor's accomplice in the Darkening of Valinor, and who fled with him to Middle-earth. The creatures that infested the Ered Gorgoroth were her offspring and descendants, as was Shelob who dwelt on the borders of Mordor.

"Legolas! Get back here!" Damean yelled at the retreating back of his consort. "Legolas!"

Damean allowed his horse to dry and eat his fill before lightly placing the riding gear in its place and taking off at a trot back to the camp. There, the human found his Elf sitting beside Aragorn next to the fire, cleaning his wounds that he had acquired when he was dragged next to the horse.

Damean grabbed Legolas upper arms and hauled him up from the ground and slapped him harshly across the face, causing him to lose his balance. Aragorn stood up and exclaimed, "Hey! Leave him alone!"

Damean whirled around and punched the ex-King in the jaw sending him perilously close to the burning flames. Legolas picked himself up and stood proudly, his chin held high, ready for any punishment he was likely to be given. The human turned back to his current problem and yelled, "You are the most insolent, spoiled, little brat I've ever met!"

"Then I suppose you've never had the chance to look in a mirror!" Legolas retorted, angrily. "I am sorry the despicable, vile creatures you call parents deprived you of that when you were a child, but I feel they have no remorse, the greedy pigs that they are. You are no better than an orc!"

Damean nostrils flared, and they were rimmed white with rage. "Beornin," the King called, not loudly, but it was not gentle whisper either.

"Yes, my Lord?" a young man of about twenty spoke, stepping forward.

Damean gestured for the man to come closer. Beornin did so fearfully. The King whispered softly in the younger one's ear; Beornin stiffened almost immediately. "Yes, my Lord," he said. Legolas examined the young man's face closely: he seemed frightened and somewhat disgusted.

Damean then turned his full attention back to Legolas. "Do you remember when I told you that you would be fitfully punished ere this journey was over?" he asked after staring at Legolas for a several minutes.

"Yes," the elf replied hesitantly.

"Your time has come." Damean made a fast gesture with his raised hand and several guards rushed forward and quickly brought the Prince to his knees.

"Damean, what is the meaning of this?!" Legolas demanded outraged.

"Silence!" the human roared. "Beornin, is it ready?"

"Yes, my Lord," the young man answered automatically. Damean slipped his hand into a thick glove and stepped back towards the fire, to the seething Elves and Man. He picked up a white-hot piece of iron from the heart of the flame and looked at Legolas.

"Strip him of his shirt!" the King ordered. A guard immediately knelt in front of the captive and cut away the cotton material with his dagger. "Lower him to the ground!" Again, the King's orders were swiftly followed out and Legolas found himself looking up at the trees of his home forest.

"Do you know what this is, slave?" Damean hissed. He held up the iron for all to see.

"'Tis a brand," Legolas panted out. He was growing scared of what was to come.

"Very good!" Damean said as if he was a teacher and a student had just given the right answer. "It has the Harad royal insignia on it. We mark all our cattle and horses in the stables and pastures with it. Have you ever been branded, Legolas?"

"No," Legolas replied. His breathing was coming out in short harsh gasps. He licked his dry lips and his eyes roved around, looking for an escape, terrified of the crazy madman holding the metal.

Thranduil leapt to his feet. "If you dare lay a hand on my son, you'll wish you were dead," he growled.

"I would advise you to stay out of this, Elf, lest you want to be burying your son on the morrow," Damean said, carelessly swinging the brand about. Aragorn stood again and, along with Lumlier and Falacas, took hold of Thranduil, immobilizing him to keep him from putting Legolas in more danger.

Damean proceeded to stand next to his consort. "We put this on nearly all of our animalistic property," he murmured. "On horses and cattle, it is usually on the point of the hip. But I think we can put it a bit higher on you."

The human carefully positioned the hot iron above a section of pale skin to the right and a little bit below Legolas' belly button. The Elf whimpered as he felt his skin blistering even before the iron had touched him. Suddenly, Damean lowered his arm, and contact was made.

It took Legolas a moment to realize the screaming he heard was his own. The pain from the white-hot brand was searing. Legolas had never known anything like it; not the lash of a whip nor the brokeness of a bone could rival the anguish he was in now. Damean pressed the iron further into the burnt flesh, ripping more agonized cries from the young Elf's throat.

The guards holding Legolas down cringed away from the unearthly sound and flocks of birds took flight from the trees. Thranduil struggled mightily against his friends who were doing what they thought was best by holding him at bay.

Damean finally removed the iron that had cooled somewhat, tearing skin along with it. Legolas' chest rose and fell with ragged breath; the pain still lingered and he could not speak.

"Next time, when I call you back to me, I expect you to answer and obey," the human said icily.

"Yes master," Legolas replied in a shaky, breathy whisper. The guards stood from the ground, bringing their charge along with them.

"Shackle him to that sapling," Damean said. He sauntered to his tent and no more was seen of him that night.

The soldiers pushed the Elf in a kneeling position, with one leg on each side of the young tree, and roughly pulled his arms behind the bark, roping, and chaining, the pale wrists together in an 'x'. Legolas, still shaken and hurting from his ordeal, hung his head in shame and pain, trying ineffectively to block out the world. When he could not he look to the stars that were winking at him, and he listened to the trees' soothing words of apology and hope.

Thranduil watched as Legolas suffered on his own and cursed himself for not stopping what had happened. He must be the worst father in the history of Arda.

As the dawn passed, the sky turned cloudy and a light drizzle descended upon the company who were shaking off the remnants of sleep. Thranduil ducked his head as he exited the tent of the soldier that was guarding him and looked around for his son. Legolas was still chained to the sapling at the edge of the clearing, his head resting on the trunk of the tree, his eyes closed.

Thranduil had to take a second look. Legolas' eyes were closed. In the Elven world that meant two things: a healing sleep or death. The ElvenKing hurried to his son's side and shook his faintly scarred shoulders. "Legolas, ion nin, wake up!"

Legolas blearily blinked and opened his eyes halfway. "What?" he groaned.

"I thought you had passed to Mandos' Hall!" Thranduil cried. He cupped the younger Elf's face in his soft hands to get a better look at him.

"I hurt too much to be dead," Legolas muttered and shifted against the rough bark of the tree.

Thranduil's happy smile was wiped off his face as he heard his son speak. "I am so sorry, Legolas," he said, tears pricking his eyes.

"You know," the archer said after a moment's pause. "I think we've both cried more than we have in our entire lives since my capture."

Thranduil laughed and rubbed Legolas' hair affectionately. Unfortunately, their peaceful moment together was ruined when Damean emerged from his tent, stretching like a cat before a fire. He instantly saw father and son talking and broke up the chatter.

"Legolas, I don't believe I gave you permission to speak," he said, staring down at the two Elves.

The Prince lowered his eyelashes in submission. He couldn't take another beating, especially since his burn was now oozing, which could only mean it was infected, and it was still throbbing. "I am sorry, master. I didn't know I was not allowed to. Forgive me?"

"Well, you didn't know, so I can't punish you," Damean said gently. "Just don't do it again, ok?"

Legolas nodded and looked up at Damean with his big blue eyes. The human chuckled and knelt behind him. "Those eyes will be the death of me," he jested as he unlocked the manacles and cut the rope. Legolas brought his arms around to his chest and rubbed the raw skin. Thranduil caught hold of the hands to inspect the flesh and tutted.

"You struggled, didn't you, ion nin." It was not a question. "I should put a poultice on this. That is, if you allow me," Thranduil said to Damean.

"Of course. My consort deserves the best when he is behaving," he said. "We are leaving at half past. Be ready, my love." Damean swooped down and claimed Legolas' lips in a demanding kiss, only letting him go when he was out of breath.

"I hate it when he does that," Legolas murmured to his father. Thranduil snorted in agreement and applied the salve to the red wrists, and then he wrapped a thin layer of bandage around them to keep the salve moist.

"Do you think it wise to be riding in the rain?" Legolas asked Damean when the human had come to fetch the Elf.

"No, but I want to reach the river by tonight. If we do so, then I shall be at my kingdom by tomorrow, or the following night," Damean replied. He swung Legolas into the saddle as easily as the day before. The Elf cried out as he was forced to use his stomach muscles to stay upright, causing his burn to throb more.

"My Lord?" asked an older soldier. "Are the prisoners going to ride with us?"

"Of course!" Damean declared. "Hurry and collect your Elf so we might be on our way!"

The company cantered throughout the day, only stopping for brief rests for meals. They reached the Celduin just after the sun was hidden behind the trees, throwing off enough light to set up the tents and start a fire.

Legolas groaned in pain and lay a few yards away from the blazing orange heat. His brand was so sensitive to everything, even the air, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to scream out in anguish. Legolas wished now more than ever he had Elrond's healing hands working their magic on his wound. His prayer was nearly answered when he heard a soft _psst!_

The young Elf sat up and looked around, searching for the source of the noise. His keen eyes could just make out the silhouettes of two identical persons hidden in the shadows of the trees. It was the twin sons of Elrond! Legolas was overjoyed to see his friends. The elder of the two, Elladan, beckoned him to them.

Legolas rose, glanced around to make sure nobody was watching him and scurried quickly into the trees. "Legolas! We are so happy they got you back!" Elrohir exclaimed in a whisper. The twins pounced on him and hugged him tightly.

The Prince hissed and shoved them away, clutching his side so no more would come in contact with it. "What's wrong?" Elladan asked.

"You should not be here!" Legolas' gasped. "None of us are safe!"

"What are you talking about? Of course we're safe! Your father rescued you from the human," Elrohir said. "And why are we whispering?"

"My father was capturing along with the rest of the Mirkwoodian Army! We're all slaves to Harad now! If Damean catches you, he'll use you to gain Rivendell as well! You must leave!"

"I don't understand!" Elladan said. "The message your father sent us said you would be reclaimed easily, and not to worry. What went wrong?"

"Damean nearly beat me to death, then used me to gain the throne of Mirkwood. My father was forced to choose, and of course, he let his emotions control his reasoning and he chose to save me. The Haradrims are on their to establish a human reign over the Woodland Realm."

"Legolas! Where are you, my darling love?" Damean called.

Elrohir narrowed his eyes. "_Love?_ Legolas, are you forgetting to tell us something, or are you lying?"

The younger Elf-prince sighed heavily. "Damean took me as his consort. The only way out of it is to die, but then I would be abandoning my family."

"Legolas, I'm so sorry!" Elladan breathed. He pulled the Elf into another hug. Again, the blonde sucked in air in pain and shoved the Noldor away.

"What is it, mellon nin?" Elladan asked. He was most learned in the healing arts, and if Elrond was not available, Elladan was the next best thing.

"He branded me," Legolas replied through gritted teeth. "Do not worry. I will persuade Damean to let my father bandage it."

The older twin peered at the wound with squinted eyes. "Legolas, your wound is infected!" he exclaimed softly. "Does that human not know how dangerous this could get?! I need to get you back to Rivendell; my father should see this as soon as possible."

"No!" Legolas hissed angrily. "If I leave, Damean will kill my father, my brothers, my brothers' wives', my niece, and my beautiful Lithuial without blinking. Then he'll move on to Rivendell and kill Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, and so many others."

"LEGOLAS?!" Damean bellowed. "Come to me, now!"

"I have to go!" Legolas whispered. He crouched and crawled away from the twins, but before he was out of hearing range he said, "Ride to Rohan. Estel's son, Eldarion, is there. Keep him safe at all costs!"

A/N: I know, I know! Extremely sucky place to end it right?? Sorry! I just figured y'all would yell at me if I didn't hurry up. Um... I have no beta for this chapter. I think Sirith thinks I'm like dead or something: I haven't e-mailed her in so long! So, please don't yell at me for grammer mistakes. I don't like English, so I don't really bother! That's pretty much it...

Oh! Big "Thank You" to all of my lovely reviewers. I don't know if this fic would've have progressed this far without you!! smoochies

Review!!


	19. Just the Beginning

A/N: Hey guys! sheepish smile I haven't updated in like a year, huh? And this chapter is NO WHERE as long as it should be. But I do have an excuse! froze me out of my account. I'm not sure why, or how, but I couldn/t upload anything. I couldn't do anything in my profile. NOTHING! So, yeah... Enjoy!

Story time!

"We must do as Legolas asked, 'Ro!" Elladan said. Elrohir glare darkly at his twin and continued putting on his battle armor. Elladan grabbed the chain mail and shouted, "Elrohir, listen to me! If you ride back to that human camp, _you will die_."

Elrohir shook his head and took his mail back. "I'm riding to the Mirkwood Palace. We need to warn its inhabitants before it is too late. I'm not going to sit by and watch the forest burn as humans take over."

"Brother, you are not thinking right now! You just want to plunge headfirst into battle. That won't save Legolas or Estel. We must think of our actions before we execute them!"

"Thinking takes too much time," Elrohir retorted. Elladan, fed up with his twin's stubbornness, whacked him across the face, knocking him unconscious.

"Then I shall do the thinking, brother." Elladan gently tied Elrohir to his horse and rode south, heading for Rohan.

Legolas walked calmly from the brush a few hundred yards away from where he'd met the twins. Damean, spotting him immediately, strode over with a chunk of bread the size of his fist. "Sit," he commanded. "Where were you?"

Legolas hissed softly as his stomach rippled in almost nonexistent rolls, disturbing his burnt, infected flesh. "I had to relieve myself," he replied respectfully. Damean nodded and handed him the bread.

"Eat. You look like a starved wolf," he said.

"Thank you," Legolas said, and bowed his head. He picked at the bread, having lost his appetite somewhere along the way.

"Are you not hungry, dear?" the human asked.

"No, not really. I I am worried, to tell you the truth," Legolas said, hoping Damean would get the hint and ask him what was bothering him.

"What ails your mind?" The man's forehead wrinkled in concern, his dark eyebrows almost knitting together.

"A lot of things," Legolas said. "I am worried about my father, and my people, and my home."

Damean nodded in understanding. "Well let's begin with your father. Tell me exactly what is bothering you about him."

Legolas looked at his father. Thranduil was sitting silently next to his appointed guard, staring sullenly into the roaring fire. "My father is fading away," the Prince said and turned to face the Haradrim. "I can feel it in my heart, and it pains me to see him so. He's a proud Elf, and he won't take to slavery as well as others."

"And your people?"

Legolas took a deep breath. "I worry that should I anger you, you will kill them without a second thought. My people are so important to me that I would lay my life down for their sakes, but what if it isn't enough?"

Damean reached up to stroke the Elf's cheek. "Legolas, why do you trouble yourself with these thoughts? Your duty is not to Mirkwood, but to me and me alone. You do not have to worry about anything except for me. All else will fall into place eventually." He leaned close to nuzzle the Elf's neck, but Legolas pulled away.

"But I _do_ worry! I have two brothers and they have wives and children. My concern for their wellbeing runs deeper than my own life. I could never live with myself if one of my kin dies, all because of my foolishness." Ignoring the pain, Legolas pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them.

"What is the big deal, Legolas? They are just Elves, soon to be slaves. They are easily replaceable," Damean said with a shake of his head.

"My father is not easily replaceable, my brothers are _not _easily replaceable. You don't get it. You are an only child, therefore not realizing the importance of a sibling. I've known them for over two thousand years. I just can't let them die!"

Damean sat silently, letting all he had heard sink in. As much as he loathed admitting it, the human found his captive was right. Damean stood. "We ride at dawn," he said and stalked to his tent.

Legolas stared after the human, willing him to understand. The Elf tucked the piece of bread away in his pocket for a later time and let his gaze fall into the heart of the fire, allowing its graceful dance of flames to soothe him. Legolas slipped into a trance, a daydream, if you like. He envisioned the alternate future of what would have happened if his father had never come, if he, Legolas, had never been captured in the first place.

As the flames continued to die, Legolas let him mind wander further and further.

An orange and yellow haze filled his eyes, denying him sight. The air was close and dense, suffocating his delicate nose and watering his bright blue eyes. Screams of pain and fear assaulted his pointed ears. Legolas took a deep breath, even though it pained him to do so, and forged through the fiery colors and smoke until it cleared somewhat.

There, in a large clearing, stood Damean and Thranduil locked in a sword duel. Although Thranduil was an Elf and superior to the human on any good day, he was weak from lack of food and water and Damean was extremely well trained. When Legolas rushed forward to help, Thranduil's sword was flung out of his hands, landing yards behind the human. Damean grinned and thrust his blade clean through the Elf's gut. Thranduil, looking upon his slayer, gasped for breath and fell to his knees. The Haradrim twisted the blade and sliced upwards, killing the Elf.

Legolas stopped dead in his tracks, disbelief written on face. Damean smiled evilly and drew his blade from the King's stomach, the Elf's blood glistening in the flames quickly surrounding them from all sides.

"Is this was you were afraid of, slave?" the human exclaimed. "Your father and brothers dead, your people being slain, your home burning to the ground?" Damean gestured behind him and Legolas saw past the man. His brothers' carcasses, along with their wives and children, were now where his dead father lay, burning with the same fire that consumed his home.

A ghost of his late mother appeared, shimmering like a mirage in the heat radiating from the flames. She gazed upon her husband and sons, tears in her eyes. "You have failed me, Legolas. In the worst way anyone ever could, you failed me 

Legolas shook his head, his breathing now coming in short, harsh gasps. "No, no, it wasn't me!" he pleaded.

"Oh, but it was, dear child. You couldn't keep your family safe, because of your selfishness. Your pride killed them, Legolas. It is all your fault 

"No!" Legolas shouted in anguish. "No, no, NOOOOO!" The Elf rushed towards the burning bodies determined to get them away from the flames that burned higher, faster, hotter. Invisible hands grasped his shoulders pulling him away from his father and brothers, even though he struggled with all his might.

Aragorn rose immediately when he saw Legolas tossing and turning. The Elf was moaning about something indiscernible. "Legolas? Are you okay?" The man trotted to his friend and shook him by the shoulders, trying to wake him from his nightmare. Legolas lashed out with his limbs, holding back, striving to stay where his mind had him. Though he was still in the land of dreams, Legolas began sobbing uncontrollably and trembling so hard the human could hardly hold him.

Finally, the Elf opened his eyes, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "Ada!" Legolas sobbed into Aragorn's shoulder. "Ada!"

"He is gone, mellon," the human said patiently. "Tell me what it is the matter!"

But Legolas was not listening. After the Gondorian had said "He is gone", the blonde began hyperventilating, thinking his nightmare had been true. "No! No!" he whispered loudly in frustration. "I never meant for this to happen! Father! Father, I am so sorry! Forgive me, for-gi-ive me!" (A/N: Ok, you know when someone is crying, and they are trying to speak, but it comes out like all broken up? Ok, just picture that in your head, but with Leggy, ok?)

"Legolas, mellon nin, listen to me!" Aragorn tried again, but the Elf could not hear him. He had collapsed into the fetal position, his hands covering his eyes as he wept unyieldingly.

Aragorn raced off in the direction of a nearby spring, hoping to find what he was searching for. The man burst into the designated bathing area, quickly scanning the sun reflecting-water for a certain Elf. "Thranduil!" he yelled. Said Elf was currently bathing under the watchful eye of some strong soldiers. Thranduil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Aragorn?" the golden-haired being asked. "What is the matter?"

"'Tis Legolas! He is in hysterics!" the human explained. "He woke weeping, and I could not calm him down. You must come quickly!"

Thranduil nodded and pulled on a spare pair of cotton leggings, letting the fabric dry his skin. The Elven King pulled on a shirt and a dried his hair with a towel all the while sprinting back to the campsite. There he found Damean pressing a screaming, struggling Legolas to a large dew-drenched firtree, in hopes of finding what had caused his breakdown.

"You killed him!" the blonde yelled. "I'll kill you for what you've taken from me! I swear by the Valar, I'll kill you!"

Damean remained calm, though you could see his patience was beginning to wear, evidence given by his clenched jaw and pulsating vein in his temple. "Who did I kill, Legolas?" he asked softly.

Apparently, that one question in that certain tone, broke the young one, and he whispered, "My father. You killed my father." Legolas slid down the trunk of the tree, his forehead resting on his knees, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

Stepping forward, Thranduil replied, "Legolas, I am right here, ion nin!"

The young Elf lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the blurry figure of his father. "Ada? Is it really you?"

"Aye, little one. 'Tis me." Thranduil knelt by the blonde archer and wrapped his arms around the younger Elf's thin, shaking shoulders.

"Oh, Ada! I thought I'd lost you!" Legolas said into his father's shirt.

"I will never leave. That I promise you!" Thranduil let his chin rest on Legolas' bowed head, and he smoothed the mussed hair. "Le melon, ion nin." **(I love you, my son)**

Damean stood off to the side, observing the father and his son. Why had _his _father never care about him that much? Why had _his_ father only want power instead of love? Confused by the sudden emotions he was being subjected to, and not wanting anybody to see his confusion, the Haradrim pulled Legolas from the Elven King's grasp.

"Come now, Legolas. Let's get you washed up," the man said quietly. Legolas, still feeling dizzy from his highly unusual outburst, could only nod forlornly. "Elessar, come with us as well," Damean commanded.

Aragorn gathered a spare set of clothing and hurried to catch up with the pair. "Legolas, are you alright?" the man asked quietly once they were in the spring.

"Aye, Estel. I'm just a little upset. I have never been so scared in my life."

"What happened in your dream, mellon nin?" Aragorn asked hesitantly.

Legolas dipped his head under the water. "I saw Mirkwood burning," the Elf said when he had emerged. "I heard my people screaming from the pain. I saw — I saw my father murdered." Legolas paused, unsure if he could continue.

Aragorn, knowing he would never know if he let his older friend stop, urged, "Go on, Legolas."

"My mother appeared, telling me it was my fault that my father and my brothers were dead. She told me that my selfishness and pride were the things that had killed them." Legolas turned his soulful gaze upon the human. "Maybe she was right. Maybe I should just submit to it, to slavery."

Aragorn gasped, shocked at the revelation the Elf had just said. "Never, Legolas, never. Hebo estel." **(Have hope)**

Just then Legolas held up a hand to the man's mouth and cocked his head to the side. Damean, noticing the alert expression on the Elf's face, remained quiet. "Spiders," he muttered to Aragorn.

The human furrowed his brow and looked frantically around, anticipating an attack from the monstrous creatures. "Be silent, be still, and they will not know we are here," Legolas whispered to Aragorn's straining ears. The Elf held a slender finger to his lips; Damean nodded, showing he understood.

"Estel, they are moving toward the camp. We need to get there before they do!"

Elrohir groaned and sat up. His eyes refused to focus and his head was pounding like a hammer on an anvil. "Where am I?" Elrohir moaned.

"We just passed the Rohan boarders," a voice matching Elrohir's answered. Elladan halted the horses and grasped his twin's forearm. "How does your head feel, brother?"

"Like someone let a cave troll sit on it," Elrohir said and clenched his eyes shut, away from the blaring sun.

Elladan chuckled. "Can you hold your reins, brother, or do you need me to?"

"I can do it," Elrohir grumbled and snatched them from his twin's open hand. "Did you say we are in Rohan?"

"Yes," Elladan replied hesitantly. He knew what was coming next: a loud, possibly violent outburst from his brother, which would lead to more heavy silences and —

"WHAT! ROHAN! WHAT IN ELBERETH'S SWEET NAME ARE WE DOING IN ROHAN!" the younger Elf shouted.

"Brother dear, calm down. We are in Rohan to makes sure Estel's son is safe," Elladan explained calmly.

"But what about Legolas, Mirkwood, _Estel_? Are they safe?" Elrohir pressed.

"Not yet. We need to get Eldarion and alert Rohan if they have not been already. This Haradrim king has the intention of taking over Middle-Earth. We are going to prevent that from happening." Elladan, pleased about making his mini-speech with interruptions, was now gazing at his twin. Elrohir said nothing, just glared. "'Ro? Are you alright?"

"Don't talk to me," the younger twin said angrily.

"Aw, c'mon, 'Ro! We made the right decision." When Elrohir remained silent, Elladan said," You can't stay mad at me forever."

Elrohir huffed and turned his horse away. "You know I'll always love you, but right now I just don't like you."

Elladan shrugged. His brother would get over it. "Race you to the Golden Hall," the older Elf proposed.

Elrohir, although didn't show it, enjoyed the prospects of a challenge. "Eat my dust, brother!" he yelled and took off at a gallop. Elrohir's horse snorted and bucked slightly, happy to finally be able to stretch his legs.

A/N: So? Hate it? Love it? Too short? Not short enough? Review!

Challenge: I have written a line from a song by my favorite band, Relient K, in this chapter. The first person to find the line before I post the next chapter can ask me two question about the fic! I will answer truthfully to any question. (Hint: It's from their latest album. Happy Hunting!)

Very big thanks to all my reviewers! I know I'm horribly inconsistent at my updates, but I'm very, very, VERY grateful that you put up with me. You guys are the best! smoochies and huggles for everyone


	20. Here We Are

A/N: Story time! Sorry, guys, for taking so long!

Legolas took off for the makeshift camp at a fast sprint, even by Elven standards. The sounds of battle picked up by his sensitive ears only spurred him on, making him a blur to the observer.

The giant eight legged insects snapped furiously at the terrified men. They had never seen the likes of the huge creatures and were frozen in their steps. Legolas took deep breaths as he surveyed the damage already done. A couple handfuls of dead, a few injured, but most were cowering, hiding in what they thought were safe places. The Elves that weren't bound fought fiercely, staving off the attack considerably well, especially in their current condition, but they were losing fast. It seemed as if an entire colony of spiders had shown up to bombard the company.

Legolas spotted one of the Haradrim archers hiding behind a bush a few feet away. He was shaking so hard he kept dropping the arrow he was meaning to shoot. Legolas crouched low and ran, unseen, to the dark branches shielding the unfortunate man.

"Give me your bow," the Elf hissed.

"What?" the archer asked in shock. The man may have been scared, but he was not stupid. It would be his head if he gave one of the prisoners a weapon with which to fight and kill with.

"Give me your bow, human!" Legolas demanded again. He glanced in the direction of the battle and grimaced. Another human had just fallen and the spider was advancing slowly, knowing she had won her prey. "Do you want your men to die or not?"

The man relented and handed the poorly made wooden object over to the tall being. He unbuckled his quiver and gave that to Legolas as well. The Elf-Prince had cocked the arrow against the string and had let it fly faster than the human could see. His head snapped back to stare at Legolas in amazement.

Legolas crouched lower still to the ground and advanced on the spiders. He killed the one his father was grappling with and let another arrow fly to injure the spider that was about to prick a fallen soldier in the back. The black arachnid screamed in pain and scurried up a nearby tree, disappearing in the dark mass.

Legolas rushed to his father's side. "Ada, how do you fair?" he asked worried.

"I am fine, ion nin, but you must go and fight! These men are dying!" Thranduil collapsed against a tree, watching his son take complete control over the battle and fight the creatures almost single-handedly.

Aragorn loped into the clearing, breathing hard, but fresh and ready to kill. He grabbed a dead soldier's sword and swung, beheading a large female spider in one stroke. Between Aragorn and Legolas and a few other Haradrim, most of the spiders died at either the stroke of the sword or the whistling of an arrow let fly.

They made quick work of the remaining hairy beasts before seeing to the wounded. Aragorn ran around frantically, applying athelas to this, burning shut a cut to that. Legolas, however, sought out his own kin. He gathered them together away from the fray, scanning each body for injury. They assured their Prince and King that they were fine.

"Where is Lumlier?" Legolas asked after his thorough inspection of the seven subjects before him.

Then, a human that had always been kind to the Elf Prince no matter what the circumstance had been shouted, "Legolas! One if your kin has fallen! Over here!"

The Elves' faces paled at the bad news. Legolas seemed too shocked to move, his eyes were wide and his breathing had ceased. Falacas gently wrapped an arm around his captain's shoulders and led him forward. Thranduil had already knelt beside his advisor's side, checking for the sign of life. His head snapped up in surprise.

"He's alive! Aragorn, come quick! He's still alive!" the Elf exclaimed in joy. The Gondorian's eye brows shot up into his sweating hairline and he ambled over, obviously dubious. He checked the Elf's pulse, and he, too, was shocked.

"Check him for a spider wound. His pulse is too quick and faint; he's fading fast. I need to apply athelas to the wound. Hopefully it will slow the poison until we reach the palace." Thranduil nodded and quickly located the pen point sized puncture oozing blood, pus, and already turning green and purple with infection. Aragorn shook his head, his lips in a tight line. "We may be too late." The human gently pressed the plant into the wound, making Lumlier flinch and whimper in his close-eyed unconsciousness.

Aragorn shook his head again after ten minutes of tense staring and waiting. "I'm sorry, Thranduil. If the blood hasn't stopped its flow by now, it probably will not. He's going to bleed to death unless you can get a healer to him in a couple of hours. I am no expert in spider wounds and I can do nothing further. I am sorry," he said again.

The Elf nodded once to show he understood. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hard, hoping to find answers in the pain. He sighed and finally looked up, seeking after his foe. Legolas followed his father as Thranduil walked with purposeful steps to Damean.

"My Lord," the older Elf began respectfully. He thought if he was polite enough, the human might just show some mercy. "My advisor, Lumlier, has been poisoned by the spider venom. He needs immediate attention. If we depart right now, and we ride hard, we will reach the palace in a few hours time."

Damean had crossed his arms, and let his full lips pull into a frown. He actually seemed to be considering the option, but shook his head and turned away. "Let him die. One less Elf does not matter to me."

Thranduil made a sound of disbelief. "You must be jesting. Lumlier has been my friend since before I can remember! I will not stand to the side and watch him fade away in complete agony."

"In case you haven't noticed, _slave_, _I_ am in charge here, and what I say goes. If I say the Elf dies, then you will let him without further annoyance thrust upon me." Damean walked away, counting dead soldiers along the way.

Thranduil turned to his son. "Legolas, do something! Lumlier is _dying!_"

Legolas nodded once. "I will see what I can do."

"Hurry!"

Legolas followed the path of his captor. "Master, please let my father ride to the palace! Lumlier is fading fast and Aragorn's skills do not extend so far in the knowledge of spider wounds."

"Legolas, what do you wish me to do? My hands are tied!"

"They are _not!_ You are a king, for Valar's sake. You can do whatever you desire!" Legolas exclaimed. He placed a hand on the tanned shoulder and spun Damean around so fast he was almost knocked to the ground. The human slapped the Elf soundly across the face, leaving a fiery red handprint on his cheek. Tears sprung to his blue eyes, but he squashed them down quickly.

"Do not touch me!" Damean roared in fury.

"Will you listen to me now?" Legolas asked, his voice begging. "Please, just let us ride to the palace and save my friend. It would mean so much to me."

Damean narrowed his eyes a bit, but did not strike him again. "And if I let you do this, what will I receive in return?"

Legolas thought for a moment. The only thing Damean was interested in was his body, but Legolas wasn't willing to give that up until he was absolutely desperate. However, if push came to shove he would submit. The Prince raked his mind, trying to find something that would make him agree. Legolas leaned in close in whispered in the human's ear, sending shivers of pleasure and anticipation through his body with the hot breath and the words that it carried.

"Agreed!" Damean said with a leer.

Legolas opened his mouth, his face angry, but then he did a double take. "What?" he asked incredulously.

"I said, we have an accord."

Legolas mouthed dropped in happiness. He laughed out loud and whooped. He jumped into the surprised human's arms and wrapped his legs around his waist, embracing him hardly. Damean, although not expecting the intimate touch, received it warmly, even though just moments before he'd ordered the Elf not to touch him. He'd have to punish him later, if he remembered.

"I must go tell Ada! Please, get ready as fast as possible! Thank you, thank you!" Legolas said in one big word jumble. He pecked Damean's cheek very lightly and jumped down, running off to find his father.

Damean's mouth hung wide open in astonishment. The Elf had willingly offered his services, hugged him, and kissed his cheek. Maybe things were turning around for the better.

Thranduil stood close enough to see, but too far away to hear. He watched the exchange between his captor and his son, debating whether or not Legolas had finally gone mad. Willingly touching that vile man was something Thranduil would never do, yet his son threw himself into his arms. It was certainly a madness the older Elf did not understand.

Legolas sprinted over, his eyes shining bright teal with excitement. "Ada, he has granted us permission. Hurry, we must make a contraption that Lumlier can lie on."

Falacas and Mandolin fashioned a gurney (without wheels of course!) and tied two ropes to the front, then fastened them to the pommels of harnesses on a couple of horses. Legolas nodded in satisfaction; the horses were sturdy and broad and did not spook in the slightest. They laid the injured and delirious Elf on the soft blankets and made sure he was strapped in tightly.

Damean rode up on Legacy, surveying the eight fussing over one. "Legolas, you shall ride with me. I have two dozen of my best soldiers accompanying us as well. Is something wrong?" he asked when the Prince pulled a face.

"Your men will slow us down," he said frankly. "We cannot ride two to a horse if we want to get there before he dies."

Damean sighed loudly and rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Very well, they all get their own horse," he said in a bored voice. "You are insufferable, you know that, Legolas?"

"So I've been told," the Elf replied cheekily and mounted in front of the human. He turned back and eyed the waiting Men and Elves. "Are we all ready? Let us be on our way! Noro lim, Legacy, noro lim!" The horse flicked his ears back to the voice of the Elf then pricked them forward and snorted. He plunged into such a gallop that Damean was almost thrown from his back. The human clung to his consort's waist in fear. Legolas grinned broadly and whooped. The soldiers followed close behind.

They rode hard through an hour and a half, taking shortcuts through the forest only known by the Woodland Elves. Legacy was soaked in sweat and he trembled, but he surged on, letting the Elf master on his back know he would not stop until they'd reached their destination.

Finally, Legolas pulled back on the leather connected to Legacy's bit, reining him back to a trot. He could see the city's gates about two miles ahead of him. Already Elves had the gate open and were coming out, expecting their King, not a human. Legolas signaled the two Elves leading the draft horses dragging Lumlier to him.

"Go ahead of us and take Lumlier to the Healer's. He needs to get there as soon as possible. We will walk from here; the horses are tired." The Elves nodded.

Damean raised an eyebrow and a one-sided smirk graced his lips. "Since when did I grant you permission to give out orders?" he asked with amusement.

Legolas blinked and lowered his head. If this got him into trouble, he would kick himself. "You did not. I am sorry, master."

"Master? Since when have you been submissive?" the human asked. He pulled aside the blonde hair in front of him, exposing Legolas' neck. He locked his lips on a patch of skin just below the mithril collar and bit and sucked. 

"I've been thinking since the nightmare I had. If you succeed in the overtaking of my home, however much I resent you and hate you for it, I should be obedient. I mean, I shall only receive punishments when I act out of order, so why not save my skin from abuse and just serve you?"

Damean took this all in while still suckling on the Elf's skin. "You know," he said when I finally let go," for someone who looks so young, you sure are wise."

Legolas smiled. "I am far, far older than you think."

"Oh yeah? If the myths of the immortality of the Elves is true, then you definitely are old, as you say you are. But you look not a day over."

"That is because once Elves reach their majority they rarely show signs of age. Their appearance may change just a little, but they forever look young."

"What is the age that you reach your majority?" Damean asked, honestly curious about the ways of the creatures he would soon rule.

"Fifty," Legolas replied.

"And how old are you, my love?

"Two thousand, three hundred and ninety," he said.

Damean whistled in amazement and appreciation. "Wow, you are old. Have you ever wed?"

"Once, yes. She died during childbirth, bringing my son down with her," Legolas said quietly. The subject was still touchy and he would rather not talk about his deceased lover and child.

"I am sorry, Legolas, truly I am," Damean said, a sadness that he couldn't comprehend beginning to well up deep inside him. "Have you taken anyone else since?"

"Yes, I have a lover, but we have yet decided to wed. In the Elven world, sex means marriage unless both Elves mutually agree not to bind themselves to each other."

"Is she beautiful, your — lover?" Damean swallowed thickly. He didn't even stop to think that Legolas might have a wife and children.

"Yes," Legolas breathed. "She has such golden skin that she rivals the sun. Her hair is dark brown, like the bears you men hunt. And her eyes, oh her eyes. The Elders that have seen the sea say her green eyes rival that of the waters of Ulmo."

"She sounds like a wonder," the human said. "What am I to do with her, then?"

"What — what do you mean, master?" Legolas brows furrowed, creating deep wrinkles in his creamy skin. "Surely... you would not kill her."

"No, certainly not, I couldn't have you hate me, now could I?" Damean chuckled at Legolas obvious sigh of relief. "But she is a slave, Elf, you know that. What am I to have her do? And what about your father and your brothers?"

Legolas chewed on the inside of his lower lip. "I was hoping you would let them be."

"Let them be?" Damean roared with laughter. "Legolas, they are _slaves_!"

"They are nobility and royalty!" Legolas exclaimed, his voice rising a couple of notches. "They deserve to be treated as such!"

"Legolas, you are not helping the matter! I was giving you say in the decisions I am making about your kin's' future, but if you want no part..." Damean trailed off, leaving his reply to the guesses of the Elf.

"My father was born a king, and my brothers' princes. They deserve to live their life as they were born. Why must you make them slaves?"

"Because as a King, I must show that I will not tolerate rebellion and disobedience. Slavery is the only way I can ensure that. If I must have a mass execution, I will."

Legolas felt tears prick his eyes. His family and his people were doomed. "What can I do to make you stop this?"

"Nothing, slave. My father and I have been planning the overtaking of Middle-Earth since — before I could remember. First, it would be Gondor, then we were to take Rohan, but you, my dear, proved more useful and tactful. Were it not for you, Rohan would be getting ready to enter my domain as ruler."

"But, there must be something I can do, something to make you treat my family and people with the dignity and respect that they have had since Ilùvatar created them," Legolas pleaded. He wouldn't have an execution if he could manage it.

Damean sighed. "Legolas, you do not understand. The Elves — they'll rebel against me. Slavery is the only way I can keep them under control."

"We don't need to be controlled!" Legolas snapped angrily as he pulled Legacy to a stop. "We've been perfectly fine to manage ourselves since my kin left Valinor after the Darkening. My Grandfather and Father have done a magnificent job in ruling. The only thing you shall succeed in is razing Mirkwood into the ground!"

Damean grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and yanked back, exposing the Elf's pale neck. "Watch your tongue, slave, or I will have it removed."

Legolas swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I apologize, master," he said through gritted teeth.

Damean narrowed his eyes and pulled his head back further. "I do not believe you, slave. Do not make false statements toward me." Legolas lowered his lashes, keeping his gray-blue eyes hidden so as not to let his flashing fury show.

A cool, hard voice called out, startling the human king. "Unhand my brother, Human, and I might spare your life."

Damean turned his head slowly and looked down at an Elf pointing a razor-sharp arrow at him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I wouldn't be making threats at your overlord, slave."

"I am a Prince of Mirkwood, and I am ruled by no one except my father, the King of the Woodland Realm," the royal Elf said.

"I wouldn't be saying things that I knew nothing about if I were you, slave," Damean said, his maniacal smile still in place.

"I will not say this again, Human, unhand my brother and leave my land, before I have you killed."

"Rome, do as he says," Legolas whispered in Elvish, his voice weak and defeated.

"Brother? What is happening?"

"Romenthelas, please. Lower your bow ere you are hurt. He is our King now; we are but slaves."

Rome furrowed his eyebrows. "I do not understand, Legolas. What happened during the rescue mission? Father, did not explain much before he left, only that you were to be executed."

"The mission went horribly wrong. This Human is now the ruler of Mirkwood; the price Father paid to save me."

"What?" Rome hissed. "You must be jesting, brother. This human cannot be a... a... ruler. He is barely older than Eldarion."

"Would I be wearing a _collar_ if he wasn't!" Legolas roared. The pain in his scalp and the stressful situation had finally begun fraying his last nerve.

Damean loosened his hold when he realized he was hurting his consort. Legolas rubbed his hand to his head and risked looking at his brother. Romenthelas was fuming, though his bow was lowered.

"How could you have let his happen, Legolas?" he finally asked, their conversation still flowing in rapid Elvish. "This realm has been standing for millenniums against the Shadow, and now, we are defeated by a mere Man?"

"Do not blame me, Romenthelas!" Legolas exclaimed, leaning forward in the saddle. "I told Father to reconsider, I told him to sacrifice me for Mirkwood."

"So you wish me to blame Father?" Rome asked, his anger rising.

"No! I just — I mean — it's not my fault," he finished lamely. He lowered his head, letting his hair curtain his face and his fast falling tears. He finally looked up, surveying the older Elf through bloodshot eyes. "I am sorry to have failed you, brother," he whispered in the Common Tongue.

Damean looked from brother to brother, guessing about what they had just conversed about. "Go," he murmured in the Elf's ear.

"What?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"Get down and go to your other brother and your lover. It is only fair that I let you discuss things over with them without my depressing presence. Take your father with you."

"Thank you, my Lord. That is very kind of you," Legolas said, dismounting with ease. He tucked his simple, red cotton shirt into his black cotton leggings and smoothed his brown boots. He may be in slave clothing, but he could still make himself look presentable.

"I will be right behind you, love. Report to me when you are done. You as well, Thranduil."

Thranduil inclined his head slightly, showing he understood. He, too, dismounted and led the roan mare behind him. Father and sons walked side by side to the awaiting royal family. Legolas' oldest brother, the heir to the throne, had a richly adorned arm wrapped around his comely wife's waist, their children, a girl and a slightly older boy, waiting in front of them. Romenthelas' wife held a baby wrapped in a light purple blanket and held a small, male Elf child at bay with her pale hand.

As if on cue, all three small children ran forward, attacking Legolas with hugs and shouts of welcome back. Legolas knelt and laughed with joy, returning the hugs and kisses with vigor. "I have missed you all so much," he nearly whispered.

The Crown Prince of Mirkwood stepped forward with grace and refinement. Only his overly bright eyes betrayed his blank face and nonchalant posture.

"Brother, it is under these good times that we have you back. You have been missed," he said. He stepped forward with outstretched arms, inviting his younger sibling to hug him.

"I have missed you, as well, Aldenuir. But these good times are about to flee us. Father and I have much to explain in too short a time," Legolas said, his hands still clasping his brother's shoulders.

"We shall give you the shortened version, Aldenuir," Thranduil said, also stepping forward and embracing his daughter-in-laws, and first born.

"Damean, the human that I had been riding with, was in the process of killing me, when Ada arrived. The human said my life or the whole of Mirkwood."

"Naturally, I chose my son," Thranduil interjected.

"But Ada!" exclaimed Aldenuir and Romenthelas at the same time.

"Do not tell me you would not have done the same, Alden, Rome, _Legolas_. You have or had sons; you know the feeling I had, the feeling that you would do anything to keep them safe."

"But Ada!" interjected Aldenuir. "You gave away Mirkwood, our home. You did not think with your head! You thought with your heart! If there is anything Grandfather would've taught you, it would have been to leave your emotions in your bed, where they belong."

"Aldenuir, we may be in a slight predicament, but I am still your father. Do not raise your voice to me like that!" Thranduil drew himself up and let loose his famous temper, aiming it at his heir.

The younger Elf shrank back in obvious fear. "You are right. I am sorry, Ada. Forgive me?"

Just then a shriek split the air. A young female Elf was running full force at the small company. Legolas recognized her as one of his sergeant's wife and dearest friend, Fallandra. (A/N: It's pronounced fell-ANNE-druh) Her long hair flew behind her as she neared the Elves. Legolas risked looking back at Falacas. Three humans had seized him from his horse and had him kneeling on the ground. He struggled, but a swift kick to the ribs quieted him, if only for the moment.

"Prince Legolas!" Fallandra exclaimed. "My King, Thranduil! We are so pleased to have you return safely!" She curtsied low before the old Elf; he nodded, a smile adorning his handsome face. She turned to do the same before Legolas, but he stopped her.

"This is not a time for curtsies and politeness, mellon nin," Legolas said, hoping she understood his subtle hint.

Fallandra's sharp mind started turning and worry creased her perfect brows. "Where — where is Falacas? Did he fall in battle?"

"Falacas is not yet deceased," Thranduil spoke. "But —"

"Ada," Aldenuir spoke sharply. "This is not the time for everyone to know."

"They will know sooner or later, Alden, why not now? I have known Fallandra since before you were conceived, my son. She has a right to know." He turned back to the she-Elf. "Mirkwood has been overtaken — by Men. We are their slaves now."

"What?" she whispered, shock evident on her face.

Just then, Falacas managed to get an arm free, and he punched a soldier in the nose, successfully breaking it. He swung another punch, but one of the humans caught the fist and twisted, spraining it. Falacas cried out in pain, a noise that Fallandra recognized.

She looked over Legolas shoulder and gasped at the manner in which her husband was being contained. She yelled angrily and was about to take off running, but Legolas caught her waist, holding her back. "Stop!" he ordered. "If you interfere, it will only make it worse for Falacas."

"I cannot stand by and do nothing," she cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

Legacy stamped his right front hoof, pawing the air. Damean gripped the reins, trying to keep his mount under control. The horse continued to roll his eyes and snort, showing all the signs of fear, or annoyance. The human finally turned to his soldiers, since Legacy was directed his fiery toward them.

"Let the slave go!" he ordered. The soldiers looked from their King to their captor, obviously thinking they had misheard him. "I said, let him go!"

The humans relinquished their hold on Falacas and he fell forward, hitting the hard, packed earth with his palms. He recovered quickly, however, and rushed to his beloved wife. The couple hugged and kissed fervently, each visibly relaxing.

Damean rode forward. "Come, Legolas. Let us be inside before more of those dreadful beasts come to attack us."

Legolas looked up at his master with his brows creased. "I was... I was hoping to spend time with my family. I have not been gone long, but much has transpired since then."

Damean considered letting his slave stay with his brothers and father, but shook his head. "No, Legolas, I have been nice for far too long. I cannot continue to give in to you. The act of saving your poisoned subject was the last favor I do for you. From now on, you earn everything you get. Is that clear?"

Legolas' brows creased further. He was unmistakably confused and worried and scared of the implications of the human's words, but he nodded nonetheless. "I understand, sir."

"Very well. Now please, let us be inside your city gates."

The Elves turned simultaneously and walked across the bridge that led over the river and into the city. Many of the Elven-King's subjects were there to welcome him back, along with their beloved Prince and Captain. But they were in for a very rude awakening. Damean dismounted and strutted straight to one of the royal advisors, an Elf of high nobility. He handed his reins to the shocked Elf and headed for the polished stone steps that led to the elaborate wooden doors of the palace.

Legolas quickly took the reins from the still shocked Elf and apologized. "I am sorry, Nindolen. He — he did not recognize you as a noble Elf."

"It is quite all right, your Highness. It was amusing to see the human do such. But I advise you to send him away soon; he is too arrogant, and will surely abuse the servants in the palace."

"If only you were wrong," Legolas murmured as his watched Legacy being led away by a stable boy.

"Your Highness?" Nindolen asked, confused.

"You will know in time, mellon nin."

"Legolas, hurry up! I will not walk through my palace without a guide," Damien said from the top of the steps.

Nindolen looked from his Prince to the pompous Human with an angry expression. "Human! Apologize!" he ordered. "You have no right to demand anything from a Prince of Mirkwood."

"I have every right, slave," Damean announced. "Detain him," he said to two of his best foot soldiers in his army.

"What?" Nindolen gaped as the men gripped his arms and attempted to lead him away. "Unhand me!" he struggled and broke free, whipping out a small knife concealed in his boot.

"Daro!" Thranduil thundered, stopping the three beings in their tracks. "Nindolen, set down your weapon and go with them. Saes, mellon nin."

Nindolen was as confused and frightened as ever, but he complied. "You must explain this to me, my King."

"I will, I will," he promised in a soft voice.

Legolas, satisfied that there would be no bloodshed, ran up the steps, taking them three at a time. Damean gripped his arm and pushed him to the doors. "Do not openly defy me again, Legolas."

"I did not defy you!" Legolas said indignantly. Damean slapped him soundly. Nearly every Elf in the courtyard witnessed the display and each harbored feelings of confused anger. A few tears escaped the Elf's eyes, but he wiped them away and nodded. "I am sorry, master," he whispered, remembering being submissive was his best bet.

"Good boy," Damean murmured and stroked his pet's hair a few times. "Now, lead me through this palace. It looks quite small. How do you fit all the apartments for all your subjects in here?"

"The palace is cut into the mountain side. It is quite vast, once inside," Legolas supplied softly.

Damean made a noise and walked through the doors. His expression changed from skepticism to open awe. A grand archway ushered them into an expansive hall, where servants scurried about, heading off to do one task or another. A large marble staircase with a deep red carpet and wrought iron railing curled around in a 'C' before the doors, leading to the throne room and the apartments.

Damean stopped, just content to stare at the grandness of it all. "I never would've expected something so beautiful from Wood Elves. It's just — exquisite."

"Thank you, master."

Damean took Legolas' hand and ventured forward. "Lead me to your rooms, my love."

The Elf wrinkled his nose at the term of false endearment, allowing just that small peace of rebellion surface, before squashing it and heading for the staircase. He took the large hall to his left and led Damean through the palace, watching out of the corner of his eye at the open mouth and wide eyes. He took his next right, straight up another staircase, and finally coming to another corridor, slightly smaller than the first one they had taken.

Legolas stopped in front of double doors carved from wood. He took a deep breath and turned the handles. He pushed the doors open to reveal an extravagant sitting room. Two plush couches of a deep blue color and two more overstuffed chairs of a forest-green color sat by the fireplace and the window. The floors were of marble, but a vast carpet that matched the furniture covered the center.

Damean spotted the door that led to Legolas' actual bedroom. The human grinned and strolled to the open door to find an even more lavish room. The large, four poster bed was bigger than his back in Harad. The floor was once again marble covered with rugs and the loveseat and reading chair before another large fireplace matched the ones in the sitting room.

Legolas' lost weapons, his precious bow and knives, lay on his bed. Damean spotted them almost at once and quickly decided to take care of the problem. He snapped the fine string in two and thrust it into his pocket. The bow was rendered useless, followed by the few arrows left in his quiver that were snapped in half. Damean knew not what to do with the knives so he strapped them to his belt, next to his sword.

Legolas knew his dark blue eyes were watering again. He felt so stressed and unhappy that he didn't know where to begin. Damean finally seemed to notice that his Elf was crying and cocked his head, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Legolas gestured to his once beautiful weapons that he took so much pride in.

Damean breathed in, realizing what had made the Elf so upset. "It was a precautionary, Legolas. I can't have you impale me with an arrow once you get the chance."

Legolas, although still crying, seemed to except this statement and lowered his head, twiddling a braid between his fingers. Damean, though he seemed cold, felt his heart warm at the sight. "Maybe — maybe when I feel I can trust you completely, you can have them back."

Legolas lifted his head, his eyes bright and wide. "May I have your word on that, master?" he asked softly, his voice choked with tears.

"Yes, little one, you have my word," Damean kissed his forehead and went back to the sitting room. "Where do you suppose your father has disappeared to?"

"He might be in the Great Hall, awaiting you," Legolas said quietly.

"Oh, right. Um... do you have parchment and a quill?" the human asked.

Legolas nodded and went straight to his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. He uncapped the inkwell and brought the objects to his master. Damean murmured words of thanks and quickly scribbled out a note. "Give this to Hyrum and come straight back to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," Legolas said with his head lowered. He delivered the note with apprehension. His father stared at him, his eyes boring a hole into Legolas' head. He met Thranduil's eyes once, letting his fear show in his blue orbs. Thranduil gasped at the bruise on his cheek, in the shape of a handprint. Legolas averted his eyes and took off back up the staircase and disappeared around the corner.

Hyrum read the note and sprung into action quickly. "Listen up, Elves!" he roared, bringing the noise level to a zero. "His Majesty's orders have been delivered by his whore. You are to rest or whatever else you desire until the evening meal. He wants all of you to attend. Any funny business, any at all, and you're punishment will be so severe you will wish you had never been born. The punishment will also include a mass execution of the inhabitants of this realm."

The Elves gathered in a small knot and Thranduil began speaking in his native tongue, not worried about being caught. "Go to your homes, visit your parents, children, siblings; anyone and everyone. Tell them all that you know and try to smuggle them out. Please use the secret routes; let no one use any of the main roads. We do not know when the humans will show up or where.

"I can imagine that this will be difficult for you, but you mustn't fail me. Get your families out without raising suspicion. I know you will want to leave as well, but we must be present tonight. Send your families to Imladris or Lothlorien. If you want to risk it, send them to Rohan. Let them take the fastest horses, royal ones if necessary. Damean will do nothing until tomorrow or the day after. May the Valar be with you."

Meanwhile, Legolas had reached his rooms and he crouched just to the side of the doors, weeping silently. He had tried several times to stop himself, but found he could not. The young one felt so helpless. Elves were supposed to be the superior race — faster, stronger, smarter. How could they have been overtaken? Legolas couldn't help but think that it was his fault that the entire chain of events had occurred.

Just then, a young Elf maiden turned the corner in a rush. Her sea-green eyes lit upon the crouching Prince and she ran to him. "Legolas, my love!" she exclaimed.

Legolas raised his head, a surprised look on his beautiful face. "Lithuial!" Legolas hurriedly stood and embraced her tiny, thin frame. "Oh! It is so wonderful to see you again. I have missed you so."

Lithuial returned the hug with just as much vigor. "When did you get back? Are you hurt? Is everyone all right? How did the rescue mission go? Valar, I am so happy to see you; you've been gone for far too long."

Legolas, although he was bubbling with joy on the inside, assumed a serious expression and held Lithuial tight. "Listen to me, love. You must get out of here," he said in whispered hush. "There is not much time to explain, but we've been overtaken, defeated, by the Haradrim Men. They will kill you just to get to me. Please, take only what you need and escape before it is too late."

Lithuial's eyes clouded with fear and confusion. She tried to pull herself from the embrace her lover had her in, but he was stronger. "Legolas, what is going on?"

"Please, please just escape. We will break free someday, and I will come for you," he pleaded and promised.

She broke out in tears. " I don't want to leave you," she gasped through her quiet sobs. Legolas shushed her and stroked her soft, brown hair.

"You must, love. You must," Legolas urged her. She nodded and let her tears fall unheeded. Standing on tiptoe, Lithuial kissed her lover goodbye and ran down the corridor, to her rooms to grab a few essentials, then head out.

Legolas took a deep breath and straightened and smoothed his clothes and hair. He knocked on the door to his rooms, then entered. Damean was standing next to the window by the fire, gazing out across the expansive view. Legolas went to him and hoisted himself up onto the window ledge, letting his legs hang over.

"This has always been my favorite view in the house. It is why my father let me have it when I was deemed old enough to move into a bigger room. It used to be a — uh — guest room for visiting kings or princes, but I got lucky."

Damean wrapped an arm around the Elf's slender waist and rested his cheek on his hunched back. "It is mine now, too."

Legolas knew what the human was saying, that he loved the view and it was now his favorite as well, but he interpreted it differently. To him, it meant that now, Damean owned that, too. Something nobody had ever owned before was being dominated. Legolas breathing hitched and he turned to face Damean.

"I'm — I'm sorry, for being weak and crying like a child, but I cannot help it. Everything I know is turned upside down, and I can't seem to control my emotions."

Damean felt heartbroken. He had caused this beautiful creature so much pain, and he was only making it worse. He slid his hands underneath Legolas' legs, his other supporting his back, and lifted him up. The human smiled widely at the astonished Elf in his arms and twirled him several times.

In spite of himself, Legolas laughed out loud and found himself having fun and enjoying the human's touch. Damean, not wanting to ruin the moment, but also wanting to prolong it, resorted to tickling. His strong fingers danced across the Elf's midsection and sides. Legolas giggled, slightly out breath. "Stop! Stop!" he pleaded.

"Not a chance," Damean replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. He continued tickling the poor Elf's aching sides, when Legolas gasped loudly in pain.

"Ow! Ow, stop! Stop, please!" he cried. Legolas clutched his side and scooted away from the Man, as if he was afraid the pain would intensify if he was closer to him.

"Legolas — ?" Damean was worried; Legolas could see it in his eyes.

"The brand," he said. "You ripped the scab off. I can feel it bleeding."

Damean's mouth fell open and he crawled to his consort's side. "I'm so sorry. Let me help! Let me take you to the Healer's Wing."

Legolas could only nod before he blacked out. The human picked him up in the same manner as before and ran to the open door.

"Help!" he cried throughout the deserted halls. "Please, somebody help me!"

A couple Elves came out of the nearby rooms, but they did not speak the Common Tongue. Damean waved them off and took off in the direction of the entrance of the palace. There, it was still as lively as before; Elves coming to and fro with minor tasks.

"Please, help me!" Damean pleaded to the Elves. Most stopped and stared at the human, not noticing the unconscious Prince in his arms. "Where are the healers located?"

A young Elven soldier, just a few years past his majority, stepped forward. "Is that the Prince, human?" he asked in heavily accented Westron.

"Yes, yes," panted Damean. "Please! The healers! Where are they?"

"Give me the Prince, I can get him there much faster. Have one of the staff direct you there."

The King of Harad reluctantly put his slave in the arms of the Elf. The soldier was off in a flash, disappearing more quickly that Damean could've thought. A maid took his elbow and tried to pull him forward, in the direction of the Elven soldier that had taken Legolas. But Damean's attitude had returned and he yanked his elbow from her touch.

"Do not touch me!" he hissed. "Just lead."

The Elf maiden was taken aback. Who was this human to disrespect her in the house of her employer? She did not speak much Westron, but she understood enough to know that he wanted to get to the Healing Ward. Again, she gripped his elbow, softer this time, hoping he would get the message and follow her. But, again, Damean removed it from her grasp and pointed and shouted, "Lead me!"

Understanding that bit, the Elf turned on her heel and went straight to the Ward, not slowing down or looking back to make sure he was still with her.

Legolas groaned as someone gently prodded his side. The pain returned and intensified, leaving the Elf short of breathe. He felt soft pieces of cloth pressed against the wound and a hand smooth the wrinkles from his forehead. "Your Highness, open your eyes," said a soft male voice. "Wake up, my Prince. Wake up."

Legolas opened his dark blue eyes and blinked a few times at the sudden brightness that hit him. He squinted and looked at the Elves surrounding him. He groaned again and tried to sit up, put a gentle hand on his shoulder and the stinging in his abdomen persuaded quickly to keep his body prostrate.

"Your Highness, can you tell me who did this to you?"

Legolas matched the soft voice to the Healer standing next to his bed, pressing the cloth against the bleeding brand. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the words that had been told to him, but he found he could not. He opened and closed his mouth futilely.

"How did this happen to you, Legolas? Can you tell me how you got this brand on your side?" said the Healer again. Legolas fixed his eyes on the Elf's and struggled to get the words out.

"Damean, the Human," Legolas breathed out. "I was... I was disobedient and he had to punish me."

The Healer recoiled as though it was he who had been burnt. "What?" he hissed. He looked at the Elf warrior that was stroking his Captain's locks. "Where is this Human?" the Healer demanded. "I want to kill him with my bare hands."

Legolas whimpered, his eyes barely open. "Don't. He will kill you."

"My Prince, I hardly think this Human could kill me. Close your eyes. Rest."

Legolas whimpered again, but complied. He was lost to the world in ten seconds. A soft glow hovered around his being, emanating from his pale skin. His body was healing itself. The Healer nodded, then turned his gaze to the warrior. The young Elf stood and moved away from his Captain. "Legolas will never forgive me if I don't return to my duties," the warrior said with a small smile.

The Healer nodded in understanding. "If you see any of the Royal family, send them straight to the Healing Ward. I am going to keep the Prince here for as long as I possibly can."

The warrior nodded and went to the heavy wooden door that served as an exit as well as an entering portal for the Ward. His hand reached out to pull the door open, when it opened, as if on its own accord. A dark-haired, smelly Man rushed past the Elf, not seeing him. His green eyes found his slave almost immediately. Damean went to the bed, staring down at the blonde. A tanned hand stroked the sleeping Elf's cheek possessively, but not unkindly.

The Healer, suspecting whom the arrogant Human was, spoke. "Do you have any idea how close His Highness to Mandos' Hall?" he asked. Damean glanced at the Healer, his eyes wide. "This - this - this _punishment_ nearly cost him his life. A few more hours and that infection would have been far too spread for me to heal. Only Elrond Half-Elven could have saved him and Legolas would have been rotting in the earth before a plea for help even reached the Last Homely House."

"Peace, Baracil," said a deep voice behind the Human and the fuming Elf. Thranduil was standing in the doorway.

A/N::sheepish grin: Hi guys! I suppose saying sorry won't make up for the insanely long time it took me to update will it? Oh well... Honestly, I don't think this story will advance too much farther. I'm kinda losing interest in it, and I've got no more ideas. I'll let you guys know if I'm going to discontinue it, okay?

_**Replies to Reviews:**_

**_Riva Van Dyk: _**Thank you very much for sticking with me, throughout that huge period of absence. I am sorry to have let you down, but here's another chapter! I think I am going to dedicate most of the next chapter to Elladan and Elrohir, but who knows how long that will take or how it will turn out. Thank you, again!

**_The Random Scribbler:_** Lol, oh man, where do I start with you... Well, your previous review was quite all right. On some levels you were right, and I love your use of the word "bloody" throughout it. Thank you for taking interest in my fic, and thank you for your offer on being my beta. You know I had one, and I didn't write for so long, that we kind of lost touch. If I find my story is lacking something, I will definitely call for your help. Again, I found you were right when you wrote that I have been trying too hard. I've just been pumping out stuff to keep my reviewers appeased, and I didn't care how it came out, y'know? I guess that method doesn't quite work. Thank you for your review.


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